Behind Closed Doors
by Sirius Lack Of
Summary: Hermione's affair with Remus Lupin started in Hogwarts, and ended with Hermione burying their miscarried twins and a ring on her finger tying her to Ron Weasley. Now, years later, the affair has begun again with an explosive passion. How will it end?
1. Chapter 1

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

a/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

Time: This takes place in Hermione's 6th or 7th year at Hogwarts, she is NOT a second year.

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She awoke with his tongue dancing on the flesh below her belly button, her hips arching up to lessen the space between his tongue and her pleasure. His hands roamed her body as he kissed his way to her neck. Hands on hips. Hands on stomach. Hands on breasts. His weight on her, pressing her into the mattress, delighted her. Her breath grew ragged as he teased her; the brushing of lips and the scraping of teeth was nearly too much for her to bear.

Her body flamed up, heat ravaging her like she desired him to ravage her. He dragged his tongue from collarbone to collarbone before she took his face in her hand. Her fingers closed around his rough chin and she was welcomed by the scratch of a straggly beard. She forced her lips down on his and grasped at his firm, round butt with her free hand. He felt familiar to her, yet somewhat strange all together.

Hermione thought back:

"_I can't handle this pressure, Hermione!" Ron had yelled at her. "I will never be able to measure up when you constantly compare me to Harry."_

"_I don't compare you like that! You mean more to me than Harry ever did…it was only a fling."_

"_A fling that affects every aspect of this relationship…I don't want to be pressured into having sex with you. You mean more to me than a casual fling would…I want to make you feel special." He grew sad._

"_You do, Ron."_

"_I can't live up to your expectation! I'm not sure if I even want to try," he had said coldly before wandering away from her._

She could feel him against her thigh and she could hear his desires in the pants emitting from his throat. "Did you change your mind?" She moaned as he delved into her. She was silenced as they moved together in a beautiful rhythm. She tried not to, but she could only compare this to her first time, with Harry.

He was more than she had expected, and he lacked the virginal clumsiness and the sentimental attitude. He was a skilled lover, and she couldn't help but worry if he had lied about being a virgin.

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In the morning she was alone. She awoke to rumpled bed sheets, a scratch on her thigh, and a tingling lip that had been bitten in passion. She awoke to a hollow room, empty, echoing with the noises of the common room below. She wondered where he had gone. The night was a blur. Had he even stayed and slept once they had finished? Had he left in the morning? She paused to gather the sheets around her body before getting out of bed. She dressed in a daze, taking a long while to button her jeans and to pull on a loose knit sweater.

The stairs creaked as she took slow steps to the common room. The stairs felt the same as they had each morning and each night. Hermione felt different, however. There was something different about today, something remotely strange about the way she felt, light hearted and warm throughout the depths of her body. Today was a new day, strange and foreign.

Her feet touched the landing of the stairs on the first floor. The common room was bursting with a myriad of second years. Hermione mused about her life as a second year. Oh, the joys of being twelve and unaffected by the hormones adrift in the castle hallways. Castle hallways filled with men that were mere boys in the weeks before school started. Long-haired sixteen and seventeen year old men with lithe, muscular bodies, all of whom were willing to swim in any young woman who crossed their paths. No longer could Hermione swim; she was drowning in the sex that flooded her lungs in each classroom.

"Hermione…" Ron cooed behind her, his hands grazing her hip bones with the rough pads of his palms. "I'm sorry about last night."

She turned slowly and allowed his embrace. Her eyes level with his lips, she watched as his succulent lips formed around each word. She rose up on her toes, cradling his jaw in her soft hands. She leaned in to kiss him, but stopped. She fingered his skin and a thought bloomed in the recesses of her mind. The man she had made love to last night had more facial hair than Ron did.

"Oh, you like my stubble?" He asked, with a slight smile.

"Ron…did you…trim it since yesterday?" She asked with a degree of tact.

"No." He said with slight dismay. "Why? Would you have liked me to? I can shave if you'd like that better."

"No...no…keep it, I rather like it." She turned away. It was then that the seed of suspicion was planted in her mind.

She moved from Ron's arms. Her steps were heavy as she walked towards the door on the opposite edge of the room. "Ron," she started. "I have to go…I don't feel so well."

She did not wait for him to respond. Before he had time to utter a word she was gone. Hermione wandered out into the hallway, ignoring the Fat Lady's kind morning greeting. Hermione's head began to swim with wonder. As she neared the main hallway and the breakfast tables, she noticed it. The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team had scraggly beards. A handful of Ravenclaw boys had some scruff. Even Draco Malfoy sported a well groomed goatee that, by evening, needed taming. It could have been anyone.

She thought back to the night before. Something had felt out of place then. Now, the only thing that felt out of place was Hermione.

"It's funny how these things just sneak up on you…" she whispered.

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So…what do you think? Who do YOU think it is?

Meg/Kross

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	2. Chapter 2

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione's jaw hung open. She usually had every moment in her life planned out, re-planned and double checked. Here Hermione was, standing like a deer in the headlights of the world's biggest semi-truck. Everything seemed to slow and Hermione felt as though she were standing naked in the room, with all eyes on her. Slow, slow blink.

She pressed her eyelids together tightly, hoping that if only she could keep them closed permanently, she wouldn't have to face this problem. But, in truth, it was the biggest problem she had ever faced, or ran from. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Hermione struggled with her sweater. Tugged it down. She tried to cover her mid-drift although it wasn't showing. She pulled on her sweater until her shoulders peaked out from atop her garnet sweater.

"Hermione!" Someone called out behind her. "Where are you going so quickly?"

There Hermione was again, mouth drooping open. Her lips were only slightly parted, but she wondered if someone could just jump between them and take a walk in her mind. She closed her mouth slowly; she was sure she looked ridiculous. Peering over her shoulder she tried to eye this stranger; she could only see that it was too tall a figure to be a woman. She pivoted on the balls of her feet, turning to see who called her.

His eyes were like a beacon from a lighthouse, they pierced her in a thousand places. Emerald and deep, fringed by the tender lashes she had once admired.

His pink lips spread, giving way to a kind and inviting smile. Hermione fell in to him at once. He folded around her, cradling her like the porcelain doll she was to him. She felt the instant sting of guilt, he was no longer hers but he was the only one who had sought to comfort her. Or so she wanted to believe.

"What is the matter?" He whispered, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. Their eyes met and she could hardly tear hers away. As she stood in his presence, she could feel bubbles of desire spring up and consume her. She could only remember when he had taken her into the forest and peeled her clothes off. She moved to him, stopping only out of sheer horror. His face. He, too, had a beard like her lover.

"Nothing…"She said sharply.

"Ron said you ran away from him." Yet again, her affections seemed to go unnoticed by him. He once had felt great love for her, but now found greater love in a distant, cold girl from Ravenclaw. Hermione secretly wanted him to reject her, as she knew that he was a source of great pain. Once, she had wished that he would no longer pay her any attention. She wanted her freedom from him; however, they seemed entangled at the present time.

"Did I?" She asked coolly. "I didn't, I just had to leave…I wasn't feeling myself."

"Uh…okay…" He replied as she walked away. Harry walked through the grand doors and sat at the Gryffindor table.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron asked. "I thought you were going to see if she was alright."

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Her hips swaggered like they had the night before. He closed his eyes and remembered how they had pressed against his, hungry for the sins they had committed.

His clothes still smelled of her.

"Oh, Hermione..." He cooed to himself

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She glanced at him as they passed one another in the wide hallway. Her eyes had a slight slant to them that deeply amused him. He was delighted by the way she had blossomed during her time at Hogwarts. She had arrived as a skinny, scrawny thing with a mane like a lion. This year, as she boarded the Hogwarts express, she had boarded as a woman. She had grown soft and tall, with curvy hips and breasts large enough to fill any hand. Her hair was silky, managed by magic, and draping over her body like a mermaid. Her hazel eyes reflected a slight teenage angst; however, they were mostly powerful, intelligent and cunning.

He mused as he remembered the way her hair had covered her smooth breasts, letting her pink nipples peak out. He loved that, unlike most girls, she was not wiry and hard. She was soft and wrapped in a womanly amount of flesh. A groan escaped his lips as he marveled at how tender she could look yet how vicious her nails and teeth could be on his shoulders and back. She ran her fingers through her hair as she stepped lightly past him. He turned only slightly to watch her as she went, as she wandered away, maybe to the library or off into the grounds.

He wasn't sure, as he thought back, if it really was just a game to him. Deep down he felt a twinge of something much more tender.. He thumbed his chin, newly shaven and baby soft. He smiled at his own success. He wondered if she would ever even suspect him. He wondered if he could get away with it again. Would she be more careful this time? Or would she allow him to sneak into her room, to swim in her sheets again? Her curiosity might allow for him to penetrate into her realm of trust once more, hoping to identify her mystery lover.

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I bet you know who he is. Review please, guesses welcome and desired.

Meg/Kross


	3. Chapter 3

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione found that the next few nights were filled with frustrating dreams of her secret lover. Each night she relived the encounter, however, bits and pieces of the man were hidden or blurred. He had strong hands. His hair curled a bit towards the nape of his neck. He smelled like pure testosterone and held himself well. Each night she relived the powerful emotion she had felt, the toe-curling sensations of his hands and body taking over her.

She awoke each morning more confused than the night before, more angered by her own mind. He was familiar to her; he was someone she saw nearly every day. He was close enough to touch yet too far away to grab a hold on. She had trouble paying attention in class, her eyes would dart from boy to boy and her suspicions changed with each coming class. As the last bell of the day rang out with its magical chime, Hermione packed up her bag and took a long stroll.

She had hardly touched Ron in the last week. She was concerned with breasts that ached and grew tender. She lent this condition to the light pink bruises left from his hand gripping onto them. His little clues were every where. He lingered on her body, like a strong perfume or illness. Hermione's head swam with every step she had taken; her thoughts were filled with him. She walked down the hall way towards Gryffindor tower, her eyes drawn down, her mind focused on his shoulders. She walked blindly, narrowly missing young girls. One step and she hit an arm with her shoulder, barely noticing it.

"Watch where you're going…" He declared. Hermione took little notice to him, muttering a quiet apology. Her hand wandered up to massage the spot as she paused in the middle of the hallway. She heard his footsteps continue on, his shoes clacking on the hard stone flooring. He echoed off while she stood, her feet nailed to the floor where she stood. It was him.

She recognized his voice, deep and smooth. She could hear him in her mind; he had said just one thing while making love to her. 'He said "finally" while making love to me…' she thought. Her eyes widened. He had been so kind while making love to her, despite the slight wounds of passion. He had taken extra care to be gentle, taking her slowly at first as if she had been a virgin.

"Wait!" She called out, turning around and walking as fast as she could in the direction he had gone. "Come back!"

She let her feet carry her as fast as they possibly could. Her heart pounded in her chest as she thought of seeing his face. She had built up expectations beyond realism. She wasn't sure if he would be a nasty sort of man who took girls and ditched them as often as he changed his shirt. She also couldn't be convinced that he wasn't the sort of wonderful man she could love eternally and marry one day. She didn't know if she wanted either. The corridor seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning the way a castle had been known to do. Her books began to slip from her hands; her bag slapped her back with every stride. At last, she saw what looked to be the light from an open door. She hoped that this would be where he had stopped. Hermione found herself facing a bright window at the end of a corridor. No door. No man. No relief.

Tears stung at her eyes, not in sadness but in anger. He knew she had been following, he had had to know. He had slipped through her fingers, somehow, and she wasn't sure how it had happened. Her fingers curled around the strap of her back and she gripped onto the edges of her books. She feigned strength where none was to be found. She was afraid of what he meant to her. She was afraid of the consequences their love making may have had; she wasn't sure if they had used protection. She had sex so infrequently that she didn't feel that taking the pill was necessary. Too long a time had passed since the encounter for a spell or draught to save her from any problem.

The walk back to Gryffindor tower was a long one. Her insides felt as though they were strapped down with leaden bricks. She wanted to meet him face to face, although she wasn't entirely sure what she would say. Her blood chilled at the thought of seeing Ron. Did he know? Could he? Hermione had not entirely ruled him out of her list of suspects. He greeted her as usual as she entered the common room. It felt as though they'd been married for years. Kiss on cheek. Peck on lips. Maybe that was what delighted her about this stranger…novelty. Passion.

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Review me! I have 611 hits in three days, but only 8 reviews…that's jus' not right… How's it coming? Any guesses?

Meg/Kross


	4. Chapter 4

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione settled into one of the many plush arm chairs in front of the fire in Gryffindor tower. She watched closely as the fire licked up at the cool air in the room. Tiny sparks drifted here and there, some escaping from the boundaries of the fireplace. She sat, legs folded under her body, for nearly two hours without interruption. This was the first time in half a month she was able to sit without thoughts of him. The common room was empty and quiet; the fire threw shadows onto the wall. Shadows of Hermione. Shadows of her strong profile and rounded shoulders.

She delighted in her own looks. She found herself capable of seeing that she was a woman who was desirable. She was no longer mousy and girly. She was womanly and sultry. Perhaps she would use that to her advantage, she thought. She might be able to lure him back. Seduce him just as he had seduced her.

"Isn't it cold in here?" A 3rd year asked timidly behind her. (Being Head Girl often frightened the younger years.) "There's nearly nothing left behind of that fire…"

'Left behind…' she thought. Something left behind. The neurons in her mind fired into a huge storm of thoughts streaking from one end of her mind to the other. "Left behind!" She yelped.

She stood up from her chair quickly, with no regard to the boy or to the blanket that rested on her lap. She caught herself, she slowed up. She was growing too excited about the whole situation. Her heart leapt at the thought of it being an exciting idea. She was excited by the whole thing. This mystery made her get butterflies in the depths of her stomach each time she thought of it.

She walked slowly, although somewhat suspiciously, to the girls' staircase. With each step she took, the butterflies flooded her stomach. She was nearly sick with the tingling they caused by the time she had reached the top landing. She fingered the door knob, turning it slowly and opening the door. Her room smelled of her vanilla lotion and the odd smell of candles recently lit.

The room was dim, with the light from candles wafting in the slight breeze. Silence was a sound she rarely heard, but silence screamed in her room. She took a few steps forward, blindly, and was startled by the sudden creak of a floor board beneath her feet. She could sense that someone was behind her, and jumped a little as warm hands closed over her eyes, taking the little light there was away. A body, warm as the hands had been, pressed against her back. She felt strong chest muscles, strong arms and soft skin. She settled back into him, sighing out in relief. She could smell him, like cinnamon and coconut.

"You came back," she whispered.

"I'll always come back, 'Mione." Ron answered back. Hermione inhaled sharply. This wasn't the man she had been expecting. Ron wasn't her secret lover. He didn't _feel_ like the man who had made such wonderful love to her. He didn't sound like that man. He wasn't her lover. He was no one's lover.

"Ron, what are you doing?" She asked with a tinge of harshness in her voice. She was already unsure of his lovemaking abilities.

"I've decided to give you what you want…" He said, attempting to sound sexy and experienced. If only he knew how much experience she had recently gained…

"Oh, really?" She asked, trying to sound excited and wanting of his love.

He kissed her slowly, almost too slowly. He drew the kiss out; long slow laps of his tongue greeted her. His hands slid down her back, one resting in the dip of her spine, the other taking hold of her butt. She kissed him back, her eyes closing and relaxing. She didn't wait for him to make to first move towards taking her clothes off. She shoved him backwards; he landed on the edge of the bed with a great deal of surprise. Her shirt was off before he could blink, tossed off into the room, and her bra was unlatched in a similar amount of time. As her pants fell to the floor, he was amazed that Hermione was brave enough to not wear any underwear.

"Well…" She said sternly. "Aren't you going to take your clothes off?"

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Short chapter, I know…but my boyfriend showed up in mid-writing and I lost the train of thought. Please review! I'll post very soon, I promise….if not tonight.

Meg/ Kross


	5. Chapter 5

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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As Hermione and Ron made love, her mind was only on her mystery lover. Each touch of Ron's hands was compared to his touch. While Ron was giving a special time in his life to Hermione, Hermione imagined that it wasn't Ron who was touching her. He was enjoying making love for the first time to a girl he thought he was in love with. She was pretending to make love to the other man.

Hermione snuck out of her bed, sliding out from the sheets and stepping quietly onto the hardwood floor. Her clothes were strewn across the room; no full outfit was to be found. She didn't bother trying to collect them; she merely wrapped herself up in her plush, ivory bath robe.

Despite the dull thud each footstep made, Hermione was able to slip quietly from the room without Ron awakening. She slowly pressed the door closed behind her, silence was nearly impossible, she found. She exhaled long and deep as the door was fully shut and she was alone. Out from her pocket came a ring, silver and adorned with a snake. To be precise, the ring was simply a snake, one coiled and wrapped around itself.

Hermione thought back to how she had found it. Ron was enjoying her and the sheets had been tossed askew. She shifted below him, to even out his weight on top of her, and found herself lying on the ring; the ring dug itself into her back and stayed there. Hermione paid it little mind, moving to find a more comfortable position from time to time. She didn't want Ron to see it.

As Ron fell asleep, deep snores drifting from his open mouth, Hermione plucked the ring out of the tangled bed-sheet mess. The shine from the ring was what caught Hermione's attention first. It glimmered with great care and attention; someone had loved it deeply. The snake wrapped around itself, meeting tail to head, with eyes that shone with emeralds buried into their sockets. Emerald and silver, she thought. Green and grey.

As she slipped out of the common room and into the main part of the castle, Hermione began to breathe more easily. This ring was a fabulous new development. It narrowed her list of suspects down to anyone who was or affiliated with a Slytherin. Hermione needed to think. She had potions the next day, a class that Gryffindors had the pleasure of sharing with the Slytherins.

She padded the hallways, pacing back and forth. The workings of her mind were in full spin and she was unable to sleep now. Hermione couldn't sleep. She couldn't go back to her bed, Ron was sleeping there.

"A shower would do me good," she spoke aloud, to herself while nearing the prefects' bathroom.

With password whispered and door opened, Hermione settled into the vast rooms. In the changing rooms that were first on the path to the baths, Hermione quickly disposed of the bathrobe. She loosened the tie around her waist, and it simply fell away. Her bare skin instantly chilled, tiny goose bumps flourished on her each inch of her milky flesh. She sat on the tiled edge of the bath while it filled. The sound of the rushing water was soothing to her and the smell of the variety of bath scents tickled her nose. She pulled the tortoise comb out from her hair. Her hair draped around her waist, long and wavy. She finger combed her hair as the water level rose, and with one last tuck of her locks behind her ear, Hermione sunk into the swimming pool sized bath.

The purple bubbles flooded around Hermione as she bathed, soaking away all her frustrations and fears. Her aching breasts were comforted by the heat of the water. Her skin felt like skin again, not dusty parchment. Hermione knew that this made her feel alive once more. What Hermione didn't know was she was not alone in the bathroom.

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He'd seen enough of her to paint a thousand portraits. His eyes wandered on her back as she had sat on the edge, grazing over the white flesh like a looming predator. He desired to take every inch of her in, to hold her and love her, to know her in her entirety.

He should have found it sexy as she washed away her worries and woes. He should have wanted to join her, to make love to her in the warm bath water. He should have wanted many things. He only wanted to watch her, to enjoy seeing her candidly, unscripted and unprepared. He wanted her to be as vulnerable as he was. He was really vulnerable on the inside. Naked and confused. He supposed that was the reason that he had hunted down girls in each year he was at Hogwarts and was their secret lover. He was never in danger of rejection. He was never in danger of falling in love.

He tried to pull himself away as he heard her dislodge the drain plug. He tried to leave as she stood up from the water, dripping and in her full splendid glory. She had a hold on him that was hard for him to escape. He slipped into the shadows as she wrapped herself up in a towel, sinking back so far as not to be seen. His lips were apart, and he could only swallow his thoughts as she neared. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

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"Damn it…" she mumbled, turning around and walking back to the tub. She picked her tortoise comb off of the tub's edge and curled her fingers around it. He moved, pressing against the wall. Before she turned back, he was gone. The only thing he had left her was the soft swishing of a swinging door.

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How was that? We're getting closer to finding out who he is. I hope you can see who I've eliminated from the runnings….Please review if you liked it. Please review and tell me so if you didn't.

Meg/Kross


	6. Chapter 6

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione had been severely startled by what had happened in the baths. It didn't scare her so much that she had been watched. She was most frightened because she didn't feel that someone was in the room with her. Hermione glanced down at her finger, ring on hand. She knew that it was him. Only he had the stealth and patience to go undiscovered. She had spent an hour in the baths; she could only wonder how long he had been in the room with her. Had he been there when she arrived?

When Hermione walked her way back to the common room she didn't even try to look around for him. He could've been anywhere and she wouldn't notice. He was like smoke, light wisps that faded in and out. She swore she saw his eyes here and there, glimmering, dark amber in shadows she refused to approach. Even if he was there to be found, she was unsure if she was ready to confront him.

That night Hermione dreamt of him. This time was different from the many times she had found her dreams focused on him. He wasn't making love to her. He wasn't even in her presence. Instead, she had found him in library. He was in the distance, with books piled around him. Faintly she heard his whispers, spells and incantations. It was Hermione who had the stealth to sneak up on him this time. She tiptoed up to him, quietly, so quietly that his muffled whispers were screams in comparison. She placed light fingers on his shoulder, and he reached up. He laid his hand on hers, slowly turning his head around to see her. She wanted to see his eyes, to let her eyes drift over his lips, luscious and sweet. Blank face. No features. Hollow empty holes for eyes, gaping hole for a mouth.

Hermione awoke, though not in a jolt like she had expected. It seems her dream came to an end just as her internal clock went off. Her eyes flittered open, focusing on the room around her. She could smell the dead fire and see the faint hint of light in the corners of windows whose shades were drawn tight. Ron had disappeared, though a note lay in his place.

Ron confessed his love to Hermione. It was not as sad and drawn out as it could've been; this pleased Hermione. She considered a moment giving up her search for the man; she had all that she needed. But, that was the problem. Hermione had what she needed, stability, a loving man, a good relationship. However, Hermione didn't have what she really wanted deep down. She didn't really want to be kept down in the same place too long. Hermione wanted excitement. She wanted change. She wanted passion, desire and a burning need for another person.

Hermione glanced down at the ring she'd slid over her thumb. This mystery was the excitement she needed right then. It was the only thing keeping her going during drab school days and repetitive Hogsmeade weekends. It was the fuel in her body, the tension in her chest that made her stay awake at night. The clock on the mantle rang out nine chimes, nine AM. It was only twenty minutes until the class she had been waiting for. Potions class was next and every Slytherin boy in her grade level would be there.

Hermione dressed and left Gryffindor common room. She didn't wander to breakfast. She didn't seek Ron out. She went to potions class, arriving an instant before the late bell rang out. Ron was stunned to see her so late. Hermione was usually the first student to arrive in any given class. Harry had assumed that she was taking the class off for the first time.

Hermione sat, ignoring the rest of the class' looks of awe. Hermione was no longer self-conscious. She simply didn't care what the students thought.

Despite the slight level of chaos Hermione had caused, the class continued. Cauldrons were brought out. Fires were lit and ingredients were mixed. Hermione was partnered up with Ron, who was constantly clinging to her. Hermione did not try to fend him off; instead she devoted her attention to seeing who in the room was missing a ring. She watched the hands of the Slytherin boys, while they mixed, while the chopped, while they waved wands about.

Hermione searched intently for the tan lines left behind when someone loses a ring they've worn for years. She scanned the room several times. Not one hand did she miss, no boy was left unsearched. She was satisfied when she found one hand with the tan lines she sought. She wasn't sure if tan lines existed on such pale fingers. Draco Malfoy was missing a ring.

His lonely, bare hand was cutting open lizards when she approached. His middle finger was exposed, no ring and the slight indentation and discoloration where a ring should have been. It made sense that he would have a ring like the one she had found. It was a clear match to his personality. Strong Slytherin pride. He had the money to afford a lavish ring like that.

Hermione drifted over to him, watching his face closely. She found her breathing had hastened and grown deeper. She wasn't sure if she could handle having such desires for the likes of Draco Malfoy. She found herself separated from him only by the cauldron between them.

"Draco…" she began, looking over at him through a somewhat sexy amount of smoke.

"What, mudblood?" He snapped. He wiped the water off of his newly washed hands.

"I, uhh…" she tried to speak but found she had trouble. It was then that she watched his hand slip into his pocket. Out came a ring, one solid silver and engraved with serpentine symbols. He slid it onto his bare middle finger. "What are you brewing?" she quickly covered for herself.

" It's belladonna and boomslang. Why?" he retorted. Suddenly, Hermione felt overcome by the intense odor coming from the cauldron.

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Please review. You'll find out soon. Hey, if you want to read a good fanfic, check out "The beginning as we'll know it" by tkdprincess121. I personally love it and recommend it!

Meg/Kross


	7. Chapter 7

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

NOTE: I would like to lend credit to my friend Carly, who is assisting me in the concept for this story. She makes a wonderful brainstorming partner. Thank you Carly!

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Within moments, Hermione found herself in the hospital wing. Harry and Ron had rushed her there, muttering something about poison. And Draco. Hermione's mind was fairly fogged, but it was clear enough to remember what she had seen. Draco had his ring, and the ring on her finger had to belong to someone else. Someone much like Draco. Slytherin, powerful, and cold.

Madam Pompfrey forced a horrid tasting solution down her throat, which eased the growing headache she had. She felt a cool sensation wash over her body and the lingering smell of dead flesh dissipated. Hermione breathed out a comforting sigh, happy her lungs still worked.

"Now, now darling…" Madam Pompfrey began. "Take it slowly. I still need to run a few tests on you…It should only take a few moments. " She said, eying Hermione curiously. Hermione was nearly uncomfortable with the look she was given. It felt as though it pierced her, like Madam Pompfrey could see something that even she could not see in herself.

Hermione was made to breathe into an apparatus she had seen in muggle hospitals, despite this version being more complicated. Blood was drawn and Hermione was made to wait in the room while Madam Pompfrey went over every result. Madam Pompfrey must have had a very different idea of what the term "few" meant. Hermione began to drift off into sleep as she waited for more than one hour. She lent the delay to Neville and his daily injury, this time he'd been stung by an entire colony of bees.

As Madam Pompfrey tended to Neville's wounds, covering them with a blue-ish liquid that made them tingle and smell like cotton candy, Hermione began to wonder if she would ever discover who her secret lover was. She seemed to have exhausted all possible solutions, each having been proved wrong by chance or actual proof. Hermione even toyed with the notion that she may have merely dreamed the entire encounter up. Even if she wanted to believe it was a product of her boundless imagination, she knew deep down that it had really occurred. She could feel it in her bones. _She could feel it deep inside her._

Hermione knew something was awry when Madam Pompfrey returned from her office.

The look on her face was off; she looked at Hermione almost delicately. When she sat down, in the chair next to Hermione, she took up Hermione's hand in hers. Hermione could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest and it felt as though all the blood in her body had rushed to her face. Hermione tried to focus her attention on Madam Pompfrey's gentle eyes, but instead found her eyes locked on the elderly woman's mouth.

"Miss Granger," she began, this term through Hermione off. She felt as though she were being lectured by her grandmother already. "Hermione," she corrected. "We're you aware of your…delicate position?" She asked slowly.

"Delicate position?" Hermione answered back. "What position is that?"

"Hermione, your blood tests indicate that you are…with child. Pregnant." She eased out the words, expecting a harsh response. Hermione did not speak, only her mouth hung open. She rubbed a hand over her face, pulling her skin down and trailing two of her fingers onto her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling the sting of tears welling up behind them.

"Pregnant?" She asked. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. Three and a half weeks." A pause. "Now, we have to inform your parents. Would you like me to arrange a phone call? Or would you like to take care of it?"

"I…I…will tell them." Hermione whimpered. She hadn't thought about her parents. She knew her mother would be most harsh.

"I will inform the faculty about your position in order to assure that you will be placed in the proper conditions." She spoke with sympathy laced words. Madam Pompfrey's eyes reflected a tender sadness, yet the motherly look of love. "I promise to make this as easy on you as possible."

"I will keep the baby, Madam Pompfrey. Please don't look into adoption or…"She paused, feeling great pain in her heart. "…Or other options." She couldn't bear the idea of giving away her child or worse, ending its innocent life. She knew it would be tough, but she felt it was the best option.

Madam Pompfrey nodded, knowing that it wasn't the best timing to discuss other options. At this point, because Hermione was over the age of 17, it was Hermione's choice and she had to let that choice be Hermione's alone. "You can go and tell the father now," Madam Pompfrey said quietly.

Hermione was suddenly shocked once more. She had no father to tell. She didn't know who exactly he was. The fact that she was three and a half weeks pregnant eliminated the notion that Ron could have been the father. I had only been a few nights since the first time they had slept together. Additionally, it had been nearly four months since Hermione and Harry had last had sex. There was only one person left to have impregnated her, her secret lover.

On the way back to the common room, with a degree more of carefulness than she would normally use, Hermione decided it would be best to tell Ron. She would let him assume that he was the father. It would, in the long run, be best for all three of them, she reasoned. All _three of them_, she thought in awe. Despite the massive changes in her life this pregnancy would cause, Hermione found herself delighted by the news. She could only hope that Ron would share in her good spirits.

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Please Review. We're getting so close! I can feel the tension growing. Originally I intended this story to have about 5 chapters. Recently I decided on about ten. As of the brainstorming session tonight with Carly, it looks like it will be close to twenty chapters. I won't keep you waiting for the identity that long, though.

Meg/Kross


	8. Chapter 8

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione worried about telling Ron. Despite his love for her, she wasn't sure if her pregnancy would be as joyous for him as it was for her. She could already feel how natural it was for her to be pregnant, she reflected on the last few days. Her body had already been giving her clues as to her pregnancy. Engorged, aching breasts were the first sign. Need for excessive sleep was another. She hadn't been nauseated yet, or had strange food cravings. She only assumed they would be on their way.

She decided that she would tell Ron that night, not to wait even another day. She wanted him to be there when she faced the faculty tomorrow with Madam Pompfrey. Despite her elation, she wasn't sure if she could handle the hard stares of her teachers and Dumbledore alone. She wondered intently whether or not she would feel ashamed by this whole experience. Embarrassment was a definite. The sheer idea of her teachers knowing she had had sex and was fertile enough to conceive was enough to make her blush. However, Hermione didn't quite know is she could feel ashamed of something so natural. After all, her body had done what it was designed to do.

The more she thought about the more proud she grew of herself. Not proud that she had let someone sneak into her room and get her pregnant. Not proud that she would have to lie to Ron and drag him into the situation in order to keep all of the shame from being directed on her. Not proud that her life was forever changed, possibly in a very negative way. But, proud that she was a woman. Proud that she was capable of bringing new life into the world.

When Hermione finally arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione was not worried about the meeting with the faculty at all. She had pushed the idea of telling her parents out of her mind for the time being. This problem, she would face another night. Perhaps she would have Ron there to support her as well. She told the Fat Lady the password ("shoe strap"). When the portrait swung open, Ron was the first person Hermione's eyes landed on.

She almost began to cry then, so overcome by the wonders of the human body. She walked straight towards Ron, looking him dead in the eye. He greeted her sweetly, like she knew he would. She could hardly wait to hear what he would say in response to the news. A child. A child he would believe was his. This would seal their fate. They would marry young and be happy together. Hermione could only hope that her secret would never be exposed.

"Ron, we must speak in private." She whispered to him, reaching down to him, extending a hand to help him up. "It is very important."

"You are well?" He asked. "Madam Pompfrey has given you the antidote?"

"She has given me so much more, Ron…" She mused. "Come with me, to your dormitory."

He took her hand and they walked up the spiral staircase, towards his and Harry's dorm. He felt her fingers trembling and could see it in her face. He wondered if she was dying, the news could have been the "so much more" Hermione spoke of. He decided then that he would hold her all night.

With the door shut, locked tight, Hermione sat on the bed. She rubbed the space next to her, motioning that Ron should sit next to her. She took up his hands, kissing his fingers between two sets of knuckles. She breathed her warm breath on his hands, sighing with tears on the horizon. "Hug me, Hermione." He said. "Whatever it is, we can work through it."

She nodded, letting him wrap his long, strong arms around her shoulders. She was pulled close to his chest, enveloped in his apparent love. He kissed the top of her forehead after brushing aside a few strands of her wavy, brown hair. He looked her in the eyes, tilting them up to meet his; me mouthed 'I love you' and placed a sweet kiss on her lips.

"I hope you can still say that after I tell you this, Ron." She began. He eyed her carefully.

"Ron, I was supposed to get my period yesterday." She lied, though without showing it. Her period was due in three days, yet he wouldn't notice.

"Supposed to?" He asked, beginning to understand.

"Yes, supposed to. I didn't get it." She exhaled deeply. "When Madam Pompfrey tested me today to confirm that all the toxins had been eliminated she discovered that I am…" She paused. "Pregnant."

He exhaled sharply. "Pregnant?" He asked. "Really?"

She nodded, his arms loosened from around her shoulders. They did not leave her, but she could feel the stun he was experiencing. It was all over his body. His arms were limp, his jaw was slack, his eyes looked glazed. Suddenly she could feel the sobs emerge from his chest, deep and low. Worry shot through her as he turned his face away. He closed his eyes tightly.

"Ron…" she pleaded. "Don't be angry with me…"

Slowly, he turned back to meet her. His eyes were laced with tears, making them shine like polished jade. His long lashes were fringed with tears as well, like dew on leaves in the early morning. "I could never be mad at you Hermione, not over something like this."

"Will you…stay with me?" She asked. "I want to keep this baby."

"Yes, how could I not?" He sounded surprised by her question. "This is our baby. It's earlier than I planned on starting a family, but we can do this." He smiled and nodded. The word 'our' stung at Hermione. He was so happy; he would be heartbroken to know it wasn't his.

"Madam Pompfrey is telling the faculty tomorrow." She stated. "I have to be there. Will you…come with me? I don't know if I can do it alone."

He nodded his head sharply. "Of course." He smiled through tears. "We'll tell our parents together too, I won't let you go anything alone, Hermione." She smiled back. "Oh, I love you…"

"I love you too, Ron." She said for the first time, that night.

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I know it's a wee bit sappy, but I love it! Please review. Now, I want a baby…tear

Meg/Kross


	9. Chapter 9

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Ron and Hermione slept together that night, not as lovers but as best friends. Never could Ron bring himself to be sexual with Hermione. He was so overwhelmed by his feeling of love and happiness that he couldn't lay anything on Hermione aside from soft kisses. He held her all night, cradling her like the infant they would have before the year let out. When he drifted into slumber at last, he dreamed of Hermione, naked and so pregnant she was nearly ready to burst. He, too, was naked. He dreamt of proposing marriage to her.

He awoke in the dark of night, with only firelight to see her by. Asleep on her back, her knees touched. He found her to look like an angel. He nudged her shirt up, exposing her taught belly. She would not look pregnant for a few more weeks; however he could envision her radiant beauty as his pregnant wife. He kissed her stomach. He turned and pressed his ear to her belly, hoping to hear a tiny heart beat resounding inside of her. He knew, really, that his child was still only a cluster of cells. He wanted so bad to hear proof of his love for Hermione.

In the morning, Hermione was first to wake. She dressed silently, almost a memory of how she had done the night they had first slept together. She awoke him with a kiss, after having selected and laid out a warm outfit for him. The first chilling winds of October were drifting about the castle; she couldn't bear to think of him as feeling cold. After all, he had such a wonderful way of filling her with warmth.

"Hermione," this was the first word he had said. "I have something to ask you…"

"Yes?" She replied sweetly.

"Will we marry before the baby is born?" His tone told Hermione that she should answer positively.

"Well, Ron…" She began. "I think we should. It would be best for the baby… and it would soothe my parents' minds."

"Then we shall!" He smiled. "We should marry over Christmas. You will be my beautiful bride." He approached, kissed her and gave her a long hug. She would be Mrs. Ron Weasley.

As the meeting with the faculty neared, Hermione's heart flooded with fear. She could already see their judgmental eyes boring into her stomach, her chest and her face. Professors lined up, all staring at her and the baby's supposed father. The idea haunted her. Ron walked behind her as she found the distance between herself and Dumbledore's office decreasing. Ron's arm draped behind her back, meeting with her right hand. Their hands interlaced like their warm bodies had done in the past.

Madam Pompfrey was waiting for them at the tall doors. They had been given the password to Dumbledore's office, they were sworn to secrecy. She gave Hermione a gentle smile. She looked at Ron; this confirmed that he was the father in her mind.

"So, you are the child's father, Mr. Weasley?" she inquired.

"Yes," He smiled uneasily. "There could be no other."

"I thought as much, Ron. It would have either been yourself or Mr. Potter." She added. "I'm not sure if I am professionally allowed to say this…but, congratulations."

A tall, slender woman opened the door behind Madam Pompfrey. Her hair was drawn back into a long pony-tail. Hermione admired the smoky color it was, nearly silvery grey. She motioned for the three to enter. As Hermione and Ron entered the room, she could already feel the professors concern and disappointment that some radiated. This would be difficult, she had to admit, yet necessary.

Within the hour, the professors piled out of the room. It had been concluded that Hermione would be able to leave classrooms without notice in the event of morning sickness, although she would be required to make up any missed work. This applied to Ron to, seeing as the mother and father should have the same rights. He would be allowed to leave in order to comfort and care for Hermione. The two would be given their own dormitory in Gryffindor tower upon their return to Hogwarts if the planned marriage did take place. Either way, Hermione would be given her own in order to care for herself and her child properly. Madam Pompfrey also added that she was not qualified to attend to Hermione and child's prenatal needs. She would be referred each month to the OB/GYN in Hogsmeade.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore would like to have a word with you in private." The slender woman whispered to them at the conclusion of the meeting.

Madam Pompfrey had been whisked away again to attend to Neville. Hermione found herself suddenly feeling fairly naked. Madam Pompfrey had been her pillar of support for the last two days; suddenly without her, Hermione was not entirely convinced she could speak.

"Ms. Granger," Professor Dumbledore began, pacing in front of the pair of teenagers. His presence was looming, nearly frightening. "I would have expected more out of you. You have such a good head on your shoulders, it baffles me that you allow yourself to be so irresponsible."

He paused a long while. "And you, Mr. Weasley. I would have thought you would keep Hermione in line if she wandered from it!" He covered his face with his hands. Hermione and Ron could do nothing but feel ashamed and look at one another.

"However," The aging Dumbledore began again. "This doesn't change how I feel about you two. You are some of the best and brightest students we have at Hogwarts. I only plead with you to no appear too excited about this, I would like to keep a pregnancy-trend from appearing. You are Head Girl and Head Boy. You must remain dignified."

"We will, sir." Hermione said quietly but strongly.

"Good," Dumbledore responded. "I will take care of you two if you take care of yourselves."

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Please review! I think I will reveal the identity of the lover in the next chapter. I know you each have your suspicions. Please don't stop reading this after you find out who he is! There will be so much more to come.

Meg/Kross


	10. Chapter 10

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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The two young lovers wandered from Dumbledore's office to the Great Hallway. The doors were open and the whole area smelled of roasts and delicious meats. From the kitchens, the smells of delicate desserts were wafting in. Hermione and Ron sat at the Gryffindor table, taking their usual place next to Harry and Ron's sister, Ginny. Somehow, Hermione suspected that the news of her pregnancy was not between Ron and Hermione alone.

"Hermione," Ginny tapped Hermione on the shoulder. "Is it true what their saying?"

"Who is 'they'?" Hermione asked back.

"The boys in your year. Seamus, Dean and Neville." She answered. "Are they lying?"

"What are they saying?" Ron asked, taking his proper place in defending Hermione.

"That Hermione's…pregnant." Ginny trailed off, her voice quieting.

"I am, Ginny." Hermione said, her tone was proud. "But, it's not just me. Ron and I are pregnant."

Ginny eyes lit up, the two could see the concern in her eyes. Concern was mixed with joy in every person who knew. Harry exhaled sharply, nearly choking on his food as he listened to Hermione's answer.

"Wow." He said after a moment to recover. He was the first to speak again. "Damn. Congratulations." He said, directly to Ron. He looked into Hermione's eyes. "You're going to be a great mother Hermione…"

"You're not going to keep it are you?" A third year girl called from a distance down the table. Hermione recognized her as Alycia Neelands. "You know you _can_ get an abortion!" Suddenly, Hermione wondered if the entire room was listening. However, to noise of the next tables was blaring. Hermione didn't fear that too many people would know.

"We're going to keep our baby," Ron answered for her. "The baby is not an 'it'. The baby is a…"He paused. "Well, we don't know the sex yet."

"But, we do know that the baby is a Weasley." Hermione added. This statement gave Ron great pleasure and lit Ginny's face up.

"Oh, Ron!" Ginny whimpered. "How are you going to tell Mum and Dad?"

Gryffindor table ate very little during that lunch hour. The news was abuzz throughout Gryffindor, thanks to Neville's wandering eye and eavesdropping ear in the hospital wing. Hermione and Ron, however, made sure to correct any misconceptions that the students of Gryffindor had about the whole situation. For some odd reason, Hermione thought that having a pregnant couple would be valuable to these students. It would a good learning experience. Additionally, with all the baby-crazed young girls, Hermione was sure that she would have no trouble finding an abundance of help and babysitters for her child.

When the bell rang out for the return to class, Hermione and Ron were flooded with wishes of good luck and congratulations on their fertility. Even Harry, who lucked slightly hurt by the news (he knew it meant an end to any possible relationship between himself and Hermione in the future), made sure to give his blessing. "See you in potions!" He added as he left.

Hermione had forgotten that she had double potions at the end of this week. She had it first the day before, which meant her lovely scheduling placed her in potions last today, Friday. Professor Snape was the last person Hermione had wanted to see after the meeting with the faculty this morning. The look in his eyes was especially cruel. They burned into her like acid and bleach. However, there was nothing she could do. She couldn't miss yet another potions class.

The smell of the dungeons curdled in Hermione's stomach. The odor was far more offensive than it had ever been. She wondered if it truly was worse for everyone or only herself. She had read that smells could become more intense during pregnancy. The air smelled of sulfur and mold. She wondered if that was the exact smell of Hell.

Class proceeded as usual. Professor Snape ignored Hermione like he always did, even took 5 points away from Gryffindor because she answered something correctly. He had moved her seat all the way to the back of the classroom, saying it would provide the best ventilation for her and her child. He made sure to let everyone know that Hermione was pregnant and isolated her for that. Punishment, she assumed, for being promiscuous. What Hermione wanted most of all was to be near Ron. She wanted him to be there because he was stronger than her, he wouldn't let Snape walk over her like that.

He made the class write a 2 and a half parchment essay on the effects of love potions and the witches most famous for using them. She wondered if he assumed she'd used a love potion to lure Ron into sleeping with her. And perhaps he thought she had gotten pregnant to keep him with her. She could feel her anger bubbling deep with her, but she tried to calm her rage. Anger couldn't be good for her state, baby and all.

Hermione completed her essay, flawlessly of course, to spite Professor Snape. She was sure he had intended her to not complete the assignment because she needed "special" treatment. She was in fact the first student to turn hers in, angering him even more she hoped. As she waited for the other students to finish their essays, Hermione returned to her seat in the far back and sat down. She pulled out of her bag a small bottle of muggle prenatal vitamins, one Madam Pompfrey had given her. She had given her the vitamins with instructions to take them after her lunch.

Hermione pour two large, brown vitamins into her hand. She pulled a water bottle from her bag, and unscrewed the top. She tilted her head back and dropped the vitamins into her mouth. Right as she reached to take a sip of the water, Professor Snape boomed: "No food or drink in class, Ms. Granger. Five points from Gryffindor." This of course made all the Slytherin boys howl with laughter. Hermione had to dry swallow her vitamins.

Only moments later, the final bell of the day rang out. It was almost heavenly to Hermione; the sound of freedom. She grabbed up her things, and waited for Ron at the end of her row. As soon as their hands met, they were interrupted. "Ms. Granger…" Professor Snape began. "We need to discuss the alternate assignment you must complete. After all, you did miss my last lesson. You were in the hospital wing, as you recall." He had a smug smile on his face.

"I'll wait for you, Hermione." Ron said. "This should only take a moment."

"Mr. Weasley, this is between Ms. Granger and I." Snape snapped. "You may leave the classroom now." It sounded like a privilege the way her phrased it. Ron nodded to Hermione, who grinned a fake smile.

"I'll see you later then, Hermione." He said as he turned the corner, leaving the room.

"Ms. Granger, in my office." Professor Snape added, Hermione was watching Ron go.

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Okay, I didn't reveal the lover in this chapter. There was simply no opportunity. Next time, I hope, there will be one.

Oh, I won't be able to update for a while. The holiday will keep me away for a few days. That's why i've posted three chapters in one day. Please read and enjoy. I'll be back soon!

Please review! I love reviews!

Meg/Kross


	11. Chapter 11

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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The room that she entered was cold. Only once had she entered Snape's office, to retrieve ingredients for the Polyjuice potion. That had been many years ago. Hermione was an entirely different person now. She was no longer the girl who needed to impress teachers and answer each and every question. She was no longer completely focuses on books and spells. She wasn't the quiet girl that Harry and Ron had once hung out. They were now a group of three teens who were a love triangle, either presently or in the past.

Professor Snape motioned for her to take a seat with one hand, the other hand tucking his slightly greasy, shoulder length hair behind his ear. He took his time returning to his desk, he walked over to his bookshelf and picked up a small pile of books. He brought them to his desk and idly turned through a few of the books. He was pretending to read what they said; his eyes didn't move. He stared straight ahead, at the grain of the dark wooden desk. Hermione noticed the sweat that began to bead on the nape of his neck.

"Here are a few of the publications that you will need to complete the assignment." He mumbled. "Each contains passages that you will need to read and apply to the given examples."

"I believe that I own this one," Hermione said, pointing to a small leather-bound book.

"Yes, Ms. Granger." He agreed swiftly. "If you own it, please do not take it."

He piled up the books again, grasping them into his hands. Hermione saw that he was about to hand them to her; she reached out her hand and waited for him to set them there.

He hesitated, slowing moving the stack nearer to her. The books were nearly safe in her hands when he dropped the pile. The noise of the books reverberated on the stone floor like a loud smack across someone's face.

She moved to kneel to pick them up, yet he grabbed the hand that was still stretched out in the air. Her heart began to pound. The pounding grew so loud that she could feel it in her ears. He fingered the ring, like a blind man would read Braille. He turned her hand and looked at the ring, taking the entire image in.

"Ms. Granger," He began. "How is it that you came across this ring?"

"I've found it." She murmured. "I suppose it was a gift." She paused. "Do you know who the ring's owner is?"

"I would hope that no Slytherin would wear such an impostor of a ring." He looked disgusted. "It almost looks real…However; each authentic Slytherin house ring is engraved with Salazar Slytherin's name."

Hermione looked up at Severus Snape intently. He had just given her a wonderful clue; it wasn't a Slytherin who had graced her bed, after all. His deep, syrupy amber eyes reflected back wondrously. He pulled back a small amount, sensing that something was askew. Hermione was very pleased with him at the moment. She had momentarily entertained the idea that anyone could have been the father, even Severus himself. Now that she was sure that it wasn't him or any other Slytherin, she was able to feel a slight amount of joy. Even a small amount of joy and pleasure taken from the most wicked of professors at Hogwarts.

He took her momentary silence to explain the remainder of her assignment. She had barely paid attention at that point, wondering if perhaps Ron really was the father of her child. To her, anyone else made more sense than Ron. His body hadn't felt the same since, each time they had made love. However, each time she dreamt of her lover she could feel that she knew him. He had a feeling of familiarity to him. She was confident that was the only reason she hadn't sensed something off about the whole situation. She was sure that when she finally found the answer, she would be comfortable and that the paternity of the child wouldn't concern her.

She emerged from Snape's office feeling much more relaxed and at ease than she had in weeks. This feeling she had was comparable to those she'd felt when Ron agreed to raise her child with her. Their child, she forced herself to think. If she never knew the answer to her riddle, she would still have a father for her baby. She would never have to face the world alone with her pregnant belly or eventual child. He would always be there for her.

The only thing she had to face alone at the moment, pregnant belly in tow, was the after dinner traffic bursting forth from the great hall. She wandered between young girls who kissed on young boys and what seemed like an entire hallway teeming with new-born romances. Despite her happiness, she didn't wish her fate on any of those girls she had seen. Happiness is relevant, she remembered. She may want her child, she may feel no shame about her situation. She may be proud of her body's incredible ability to manufacture and bear life. She may be all of those things, but not everyone would be. Not every girl's parents would understand as well as Hermione's. For this, she felt blessed.

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Please read and review!

Wow, I haven't updated in a long while. Not to fear, now that I'm back from vacation and settled back down…I'll write more. Oh, and faster.

Kross


	12. Chapter 12

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione wandered back from Snape's office to the common room. Her small feeling of shame waned with each step she took. She realized that even if having her child was going to make a huge impact on her life, she wasn't willing to take drastic measures to change her situation. When Hermione found herself facing the Fat Lady, her spirits had lifted a considerable amount. She found herself a tiny bit excited about having her child. Secretly, she had begun to hope for a daughter.

The common room was fairly busy tonight, not as busy as it had been in the past few days, like it normally was. Third years were huddled in clusters around the open pine tables, hoping to secure a spot to work and study. A handful of sixth years were evidently working on their nonverbal charms, each of the boys and girls had red, flushed faces and were continually puffing their cheeks out. One lone first year sat in front of the fire, she was warmed by the bright fire and the knit sweater she wore. Hermione smiled at the sight. The sweater covered her whole body, almost to her knees, as Hermione's first "Weasley family sweater" had done.

She thought a moment about that sweater, how she would really be a Weasley in only a few short months. She wondered whether or not she should try to knit a sweater for her baby herself. She decided that tonight she would begin to knit her child a sweater and a matching sweater for Ron, as he would be the happy 'father'. Hermione climbed the stairs to the room that she and Ginny had shared. After the recent problems in Hogwarts and the unexpected withdrawals of several Gryffindor girls in both Hermione and Ginny's years, the only two girls who were left in the higher grades were Hermione and Ginny.

As Hermione opened the door, which swung in, she was able to quickly see that no one was in the room. She crossed the room after tossing her shoes off next to the door. Her knitting supplies were nestled in a trunk below her bed, which were growing increasingly hard to reach because of her jutting belly. It had been a while since Hermione had used those supplies, the number of house elves who still wanted a new sweater or hat was dwindling. She had made something or other for almost every house elf that lived in Hogwarts castle.

Again she broke out the box, with considerable struggle to avoid squashing her pregnant belly below her body. The box has tiny teeth marks on it, ones that hadn't been there when she'd last locked it a few days before. She wondered whether or not her ginger cat had tried to get into it to play with the long strands of brightly colored yarn that he so loved to hunt. This momentarily perplexed Hermione, but she soon lost interest in the concept. It didn't really matter much.

It wasn't until Hermione opened the box with the beautiful, old skeleton key that she understood the teeth marks. She lifted from the belly of the box a bright ball of wheat-colored yarn, one she favored greatly. But, as it slipped from between her fingers and escaped across the floor to the underside of Ginny's bed she knew why the teeth marks had been there. She could hear the dull thump of the ball mingle with the noise of capture. A tiny voice burst out "A ha! Kreacher has gotten the dirty mudblood's yarn! Now she cannot make any more tiny things…No more ugly litter in the common room!"

Hermione almost expected it, as she heard tiny, ugly Kreacher's voice scrape out. She knew that the voice belonged to Kreacher the instant she heard "mudblood" escape his eternally-curled lip. "Kreacher..." She began. "What are you doing in here? You were told to only stay in Harry's room or the common room!" She grew angry, this was the ninth or tenth time she had told Kreacher this exact statement. "You _have_ to obey Harry, he owns you now."

"Kreacher hates Harry Potter. Harry Potter is vile and half-blooded…oh, what would Mrs. Black say if she knew Kreacher serves a half-blood?" He feigned a faint and cried out a tiny amount.

Hermione suddenly had a small epiphany. It had just dawned on her that perhaps Kreacher had been listening to Harry. Perhaps, Harry had told Kreacher to leave the imitation Slytherin ring in her sheets. It made more sense than anything else did at the moment; Harry was sly enough like that. His appearance matched fairly closely to her memories. He was Quidditch Captain; that would explain how he was able to watch her in the prefects' bath. It all seemed to come together. Hermione's many puzzle pieces seem to slide together without fault or crack.

Hermione was swift, sprinting over to Kreacher, who still babbled about hating Harry Potter. She lifted him up by his underarms and carried him out of the room. She floated down the girl's staircase and crossed the common room until she was at the foot of the boy's staircase. She hoped, as it had in years passed, that the boy's staircase still allowed girls to climb it. She worried that if she couldn't climb it, she would slide down in and lose her hold on Kreacher and possibly hurt her unborn baby. She closed her eyes, praying briefly, and placing a foot on the bottom-most step.

Miraculously she was able to stand on it, not sinking it to it or having it liquidate and form a slick with the other stairs. She strode up the high stair case, and wandered down the lengthy hallway flanked by doors into boy's rooms. She almost opened the third year's door, as it was the last door she had opened to get to Ron and Harry. Now, they were seventh years, she remembered in the nick of time. She didn't bother to knock, seeing as anything Harry or Ron might be exposing she would have already seen. She'd slept with both of them, no longer was anything sacred.

"Hey!" Harry yelped as the door swung wide. He blinked blindly as Hermione came in the door. He leapt from his bed and snatched up his battered old glasses that were the same pair Hermione had repaired in first year. "Whoa…Hermione? Why do you have Kreacher?" It was then that Hermione had been completely ignoring his half-hearted kicking and loud whimpering. She was glad to see that she and Harry would be alone.

"We need to talk." She stated bluntly.

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Please read and review. So…complicated enough for you? Do you think you have it figured out? Please, tell me if you do. Oh, it was originally going to be Snape (for all of you who guessed correctly). However, one other person was in the running. And after reading the Half-Blood Prince, I would have vomited to see it be Snape (even though I personally find him sexy and sensual). He's a bastard. Tune in for more!

Meg


	13. Chapter 13

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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"What do we have to talk about, Hermione?" His voice was slightly angered. "I mean, besides your manners when it comes to barging into other people's rooms."

"We need to talk about _him_." She replied sternly. "What was he doing in my room?"

"I don't know, Hermione!" He said as if it were common sense what he was saying. "I may own him, but I don't command his every move."

"You mean to tell me you weren't _making_ him snoop around my room?" She looked at him with disbelief.

"Why, should I be? Have you something to hide?" He laughed. "Stashing things under that belly of yours?"

"How dare you!" She yelped, thinking how horrible he would feel if he'd said that knowing that her child his baby. "Don't talk like by child doesn't exist."

"Does it really, Hermione? Or are you feigning being pregnant to nail Ron down to you?" He spoke to her face. Her mouth gaped with mixed anger and shame, the idea was horrible. She strode over to him and grabbed him by the wrist.

"Listen to my belly, if you don't believe." Her voice softened. "Come, press your ear to it, and don't be so afraid." He looked at her oddly, but after a moment, he lowered. He pressed his ear against her shirt, right where her navel used to reside. However, now, her navel was an inch or two higher and sticking much farther out than it ever had.

A moment passed in silence. Hermione wanted Harry to hear the tiny heart beat of her child, or have the child kick him in the head. She giggled to herself at the thought of the second option. After a moment, she heard him gasp, inhaling sharply. He back away and stood.

"I heard it." He said, almost lacking words. "For a few seconds all I could hear was your heart beat, but, there was a tiny heart beat behind it. They beat almost together." He looked at her in awe. "The baby's heart beat is so quick."

Hermione nodded, happy now that Harry believed her again. Harry stood up from Hermione's body. Just then, as Harry placed a hand on Hermione's swollen belly to feel, a knock was heard at the door. Harry yelled that whoever was there could come in. Both Harry and Hermione watched as Ginny thrust her head between the door jam and the door. She looked in and around quickly.

"I thought I heard yelling up here…" She proposed.

"Yes, Harry and I were having a little row." Hermione answered soon after.

"What could the two of you be having a tiff about?" She quickly said, after a brief thought.

"Kreacher…" She paused as Ginny gave her an odd look. "I thought he was snooping around our room on Harry's behalf." It was then that Kreacher, himself, spoke.

"Kreacher was only throwing out the mudblood's knitting! Mudblood's knitting is a horrible pest!"

Harry laughed the instant Kreacher said it. Ginny, too, joined in Harry's laughter a moment later, after seeing the hurt look on Hermione's face.

"C'mon, Hermione, you have to admit you knit _so many_ of those things…and they just sit there for days." Ginny laughed with her eyes only half open.

"What? I'm doing those poor, maltreated house elves a favor!" She yelped, throwing her hands up.

"Hey!" Ginny yelped back. "That's my ring! How did you get it?"

"What?" Hermione paused to look at her ring. "It's yours? Why would you have a fake Slytherin ring?"

"My stupid…boyfriend, I guess…Blaise Zabini tried to pass it off to me." She huffed. "He wanted to give me a "token of his affections" and gave me that piece of trash."

"So, how did it end up in my bed?" Hermione was puzzled.

"I flung it off when I heard it was a fake from Seamus…"

"How was Seamus in our room?" Hermione asked.

"He told me in the common room, it wasn't until that night that I noticed the "silver" chipping off. I was so angry that I threw it…" She looked sheepish. "I'm sorry it ended up in your bed."

"It's alright." She said to Ginny. She turned to Harry. "Sorry to you too, I thought you'd had made Kreacher leave it in my room…"

"Why would I do that?" Harry asked, after a second.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it…I've got to go…"Hermione said, already beginning to wonder is she would ever find out who her secret lover was.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked as Hermione opened the door.

"I dunno…"Hermione said glumly. "Maybe the three broomsticks…"

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Please read and review. I'm going away this weekend with my boyfriend and his family for his 18th birthday. I'll be back on Monday, so I won't be updating until the first (if that soon).

Meg


	14. Chapter 14

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione wandered from the castle, and down into the grounds beyond the lake. She pondered going to the three broomsticks like she'd suggested to Ginny and Harry. However, deep down in her core she felt that she would be better off going to the Hog's Head bar. She hoped that she might see Tonks there, Nymphadora often lingered in the dim corners of the bar, hoping to pick up any clues of trouble before they became trouble.

It was at this point that Hermione greatly appreciated being the Head girl of Hogwarts. Being in such a position of power, it allowed her certain perks such as free range of the entire campus area, including Hogsmeade. Unlike most of the other students of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione was allowed to go to Hogsmeade at any time, whereas other students must visit only on weekends or "Hogsmeade weekends" depending on their year.

Hermione could feel a growing chill in the air, like a cloud of cool breath settling over the village. It was nearly December and snow was only a short way away from blanketing the entire school. Hermione had wished she'd thought to bring a warm coat with her when she left the Gryffindor tower. She knew that if she was feeling the nip in the air that soon her unborn baby would feel it too. She let her hands drift over her growing belly, hoping that her hands might be able to provide some sort of heat for her tiny baby.

The streets of Hogsmeade were not full in the least; instead they were almost empty of the usual patrons of the shops and bars. Hermione walked past the Three Broomsticks where, inside, she could hear the booming and welcoming voice of Madam Rosemerta, the barmaid. She wanted the go in the doors of the warm bar and show Rosemerta her pregnant belly, however, she found herself continuing on down the sidewalk. Her feet crunched on fallen leaves as she passed Honeydukes and Zonkos, seeing the Hogshead in the distance.

The door bells chimed as Hermione entered the steaming hot bar. Normally, a student would receive odd looks from the bar-goers there and might often be told to leave. However, no one paid her any mind.

She scanned the room for any familiar faces; perhaps Tonk's bright pink hair or transfigured nose might catch her eye. Although she didn't see Tonks, she locked eyes with a pair of gentle grey eyes. Remus Lupin sat at the far table, alone, taking large gulps from his mug. Before Hermione joined him, she took a moment to think of the calendar. The full moon had been in the past week, therefore she had nothing to worry about regarding his wolf-ish tendencies.

He had a slight smile on his lips as she took the tall chair across from him. Hermione noticed that he didn't seem as worn as he usually did; he seemed to be in rather good health to her. His hair was tucked behind his ears, like he usually wore it. He'd let his beard grow long and shaggy. He had begun to look like an older man, with long, silvery strands of grey hair falling around his eyes. He looked kind and calm.

"Good evening, Hermione." He smiled.

"Wonderful evening, Remus…May I?" She asked as she sat down, facing him.

"What brings you here? The air has quite a bite to it tonight; I wouldn't suspect you to come down here on a night like this." He glanced at her hands, which were a pallid shade of blue. "Goodness, you need something hot to warm those mitts..."

He called on the barkeeper for something she could drink, either soup or a hot cocoa. He seemed to know that she couldn't have anything with a tinge of alcohol in it; he seemed to know the entire story, although she knew he really didn't know a word of it.

"There have been rumors floating about that regard you, Hermione." His eyes lingered on the area of the table that concealed her stomach.

"Have they reached the other Order members?" She said after a long moment, thinking of the Weasleys.

"What would you say if they had?" He asked kindly, looking her in the eye.

"I suppose…I would…be ashamed." She stuttered out.

"No shame, Hermione." He let a tiny smile break loose. "However, Arthur and Molly have been informed of the…delicate situation." The smile disappeared.

"Why haven't they written? Or visited?" She wondered aloud.

"It was suggested that you two are responsible enough to…handle it." His eyes lingered on her own for a long moment. "You are, aren't you? You can handle this, can't you?"

"Ron and I can…" She said, quietly.

"No, I don't really care whether or not Ron can handle this. You're the one who will ultimately have to raise this child. Ron may not be around forever, he may not be able to be your pillar of support." His voice sounded grim. "You can only count on yourself, Hermione."

She thought, looking deep into herself. She nodded. "I can do this. With or without Ron." She knew it to be true.

"How far along are you?" He asked after a moment spent in silence.

"About ten weeks, I suppose." She rubbed her eye, which had begun to tear at the thought of being without Ron, on whom she had really begun to depend.

"Do you have a doctor?" He looked at her, his eyes wildly intense. "Do you need a doctor?" She could hear the care and concern in his voice. It reminded her of her father.

"Yes, Madam Pompfrey has arranged for me to visit a woman in Hogsmeade…a midwife."

"Good." He stood, motioning for her to stand as well. "You should get going before it gets too cold, and dark."

"I guess I should." She said, and as she stood he draped his long coat over her. "Thank you." She said as he reached across her and buttoned her up, taking special care around her bulging belly.

"Why is it that you came to the Hogshead, Hermione?" He asked as they walked to the door.

"To see Tonks…to tell Tonks." She smiled. "I wondered if she might come with me to my doctor."

"I'll tell her you asked after her." He smiled. "I'll have her visit you, and I'm sure she'd be delighted to go with you."

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Please read and review. What sex do we want the baby to be? I've already got one planned, but I might be persuaded either way. Would you like the story to continue on in the child's POV after a handful (like 20) more chapters? This could go on forever…

Meg


	15. Chapter 15

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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That evening, as Hermione crawled up into her warm bed, she thought of her parents. Even if the Weasleys knew of the pregnancy, she was sure that they had not informed her parents. She hoped that her mother and father would understand and not reject her. She hoped her father wouldn't disown her. She hoped her mother would be there to guide through the entire parenting experience. But, that was all she could do, she could only hope.

That morning, December first, Hermione broke out a parchment and quill. She scrawled a long letter home, one explaining how it hadn't been planned. She explained that she was ashamed, although she wasn't truly, and how she wished that her mother and father would still love her. She told them of the impending marriage, stressing that it would not be a traditional wedding. It would be a quiet ceremony, with no gifts or reception. There would be no cost to her parents, aside from travel to reach the Burrow, where Hermione and Ron had decided the wedding should take place.

She also wrote a letter to the Weasley's, with out Ron. She told them that she was sorry that this would change Ron's life entirely. She also told Molly that she wanted her to be present, if only just her, at the birth. She pleaded with them to allow for the wedding to take place at the Burrow, insisting that if it where to take place there that Molly do nothing special. There would only be a few people present at the wedding aside from Ron and Hermione. Hermione's parents would come and she had no siblings. Harry would be there and the Weasley family. She hoped that Remus and Tonks would join them. She expected that Sirius would join them as well, if only in spirit.

December first was an eventful day for Hermione. She owl-posted the letters off across to the corners of England. During breakfast, Hermione received a small tear of parchment from a Hufflepuff girl. She told her that Professor Lupin had given it to her, and she was to deliver it to "a Ms. Granger". Hermione smiled when the girl had said "Professor Lupin." She looked as though she must have had Remus as her defense against the dark arts teacher in her first year at Hogwarts, she couldn't have been much older than fourth year now.

Hermione was deeply saddened by Remus' news that Nymphadora Tonks would not be joining her at her appointment. She was instructed, by the Order, to go alone. This scared Hermione, she had wished that if Tonks was unable to go she might take Ron. She would be going to a strange female doctor, aptly named Dr. Childers, to see her baby for the first time on a machine that was in no way magical. Dr. Childers was the only muggle who owned a business in Hogsmeade, and this was only because she was partnered with the only other doctor in the area, despite his being a wizard.

This day was Saturday, on a Hogsmeade weekend. Hermione followed the wave of third years, enjoying their newfound freedom, out into the center of the tiny village. In her hand she bore directions to the office of Childers and Fitzmen, her doctors. She had cared earlier what the office would be like; however, she only cared about her child now. She prayed for his or her health. This was one of the first times Hermione had ever lowered her head in prayer.

The office was busy with witches and wizards. Old witches gathered in chairs, reading magazines with titles like "Witchery Today" and "Spell Book". One handsome young wizard sat, eyes on the door, with his arm wrapped in bewitched gauze from shoulder to fingers. There were no other pregnant patients. When Hermione approached the desk, to fill out any forms that might be necessary, she was shocked. She came face to face with a graceful looking young witch with a name tag that read "Nurse Pompfrey". Hermione was delighted to find out that this young girl, who would be tending to her along with Dr. Childers, was Madam Pompfrey's daughter. Hermione thought back (with a laugh) and realized that Madam Pompfrey had been very quick to recommend that Hermione visit this office.

Hermione was treated wonderfully by both Nurse Pompfrey and Dr. Childers, who, too, was a young witch who adorned Hermione and her tiny belly. Hermione wished Ron had been there, and her secret lover too, when Dr. Childers began the ultrasound of her stomach. As the wand of the ultrasound machine glided over her gel-slick belly, her body seemed to react. A warmth spread over her whole body like a wave of love.

On the screen of the ultrasound machine, she saw very little. She had trouble deciphering the "snow" that blanketed the screen like ash. She could only see forms of white amongst the black and grey speckles.

"Ms. Granger, you're very blessed." Dr. Childers.

"Why?" Hermione asked, somewhat unsure of what she meant by the comment.

"Look, on the screen…"She said, pointing to one white form. "This is one child."

She moved her finger to the other side, where another form was. "And this is another."

"Two?" Hermione asked, delightfully shocked. "I'm having twins?"

"Yes, two healthy babies, as far as I can see."

"Are they…identical?" She asked again.

"No, they're fraternal. See, you have two "sacs"." She pointed out the two. "That means that two separate eggs were fertilized at the same time. If they were identical, there would only be one sac with two babies inside."

Hermione's mouth was slightly agape. She was amazed that she was having a child at all, let alone two.

"It's a little too early to tell the babies' sexes, however, would you like me to attempt a guess? We won't be able to tell for sure for at least another four weeks." She asked after a moment of searching around.

"No." She smiled. "I'd like the father to be here with me if we decide we want to know."

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Please read and review. Okay, the votes have been tallied for the baby/babies sex. We'll find out soon.

Meg


	16. Chapter 16

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione found herself in front of the mirror, that night. She had waited until Ginny had run off to be with one of her many boyfriends. When, at long last, Ginny had been gone for a few moments, Hermione slid her clothes off. Her belly was round and high, growing larger, it seemed, with each moment she looked at it. Her hands could no longer span the width of her stomach, even with her fingers splayed wide. She couldn't believe that two tiny babies lay encased in her flesh.

She wondered, with awe, how her skin had not split around her growing children. It seemed that her skin would tear open at any time. However, Hermione's skin was taught and smooth. She let her hair down, let it drape over her shoulders and breasts like Eve in the Garden of Eden. No longer was Hermione going to be a girl. Now she was "woman". Now she was "mother". Soon, she would be "wife" as well.

The idea that she would not be allowed to wear white on her wedding day brought tears to her eyes. She had always hoped she could pretend that she was still a virgin, if she wasn't. She always hoped she would be able to hold her head up high as she walked down the aisle. Now, she wondered, if all her wedding guests would think of nothing but she and Ron making love to one another. Her fears were dispelled, however, because she knew that she would be surrounded by those who loved her at her wedding.

The entire Weasley family loved her, and she was sure that Molly and Arthur were not devastated by the news (she was yet to receive a Howler about being a 'tramp' or such). Her parents would still love her. Ron would still love her, and Harry would be proud. But, she would not wear white. She wasn't even sure if she could find a wedding dress large enough to accommodate her growing orb of a stomach. She feared that, like her school robes, she would not be able to wear much.

She amused herself, as she looked in the mirror, by thinking she should walk down the aisle in the nude. Ron could be nude as well. It would remind all of their guests what had brought them there, Hermione being naked. It was a sad fact that Ron was not the other half of the reason, in all reality. Guilt washed over Hermione. Perhaps, she thought, the wedding should be called off. This was in no way Ron's fault. He wasn't involved at all. She was dragging him down with her.

Fire light bounced off of his (beaming) photograph on the bed side table. He waved and blew kisses at her, and admired her bare, pregnant body. He was more excited about the babies than she was. He wanted the family he had always dreamed of having with Hermione. He wanted it whether it was sooner or later. This was his dream, and she had made it a reality for him. Hermione and a stranger had made his dreams come true.

"I can never tell him…" She whispered aloud. "It would break his heart."

Hermione let her fingers wander over her giant belly, now covered in goose bumps. Chills had overtaken her body when she'd thought of Ron's innocence. She crossed the room, to the bed. With a flick of her wand, the lights in the room went out, leaving only flames to dart across and paint the walls with light. Hermione sunk into bed. She drew her covers up to her neck to protect her skin from the cold. Hermione looked down at her blanketed form. She was all belly. The blanket merely grazed her other flesh as it hugged her belly. She found herself feeling like a circus tent filled with wiggle-worms. She could feel each child kick now, it was apparent that they were side to side. She thought of her sides, and decided to move onto one. She could feel the weight of her babies crushing her organs.

Hermione lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. She wondered when it would be best to tell Ron that they we're having twins. She wanted it to be special. She wanted to see that child like smile again, the one that had decorated his face when she told him that they were pregnant in the first place. She decided to sneak into his room in the morning and tell him when his eyes first opened. It would make his day.

Just then, a knock came at the door. It was quiet, like a secret knock. Hermione glanced at the clock next to Ron's picture. The face read 11:42. As she rose from the bed, she looked around for something to throw over her naked body. The door knob squeaked as it was slowing turned. 'Ron…' Hermione thought. She didn't worry about finding something to wear. She sat on the end of the bed.

"Come in." She yelled quietly to the door. The door opened slowly.

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Please Read and review. I know this was short. I'm trying to get to the identity as soon as possible. I start school again in 8 days…August 10th. I want to at least have that out of the way before I have a full year of school looming over the horizon…you know?

Meg


	17. Chapter 17

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

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Hermione heard the door stick in its frame. There was a dull, wood on wood noise that reverberated in her ears. The noise reminded her of being beneath water, like resting on the bottom of a rippling pool while someone yelled to get her attention in the distance. She rose up on her feet, reaching out to the door. There was a quiet thump noise, and the door slid open. A cool air burst in, immediately lowering the temperature in the room.

He stood with his back to the door. He closed the door behind him without taking his eyes off of Hermione's naked form. He waited for the surprise to find its way into her eyes; he waited for her to yelp in embarrassment. His back pressed against the door. He stood calmly there, waiting for her to move. Hermione's large eyes looked back at him, momentarily stunned, like a deer in headlights. She blinked once and then twice before moving. She slowly backed away from him, on and up under her covers.

"I'm sorry to have encroached like this," He said slowly. "I didn't know you would be…like that." His cheeks shimmered with a light blush.

"I should have locked the door." She answered swiftly, trying to take the blame away from him.

"I came to see the baby," He whispered. "…If I'm allowed."

"Babies." She corrected. "They're twins."

"Incredible…"His mouth gaped open slightly. "I should have guessed when I saw how large your belly was, yesterday." He was still a deep shade of pink.

"Remus, don't be embarrassed about this…whole…situation." She said, speaking of him walking in on her naked. "I'm almost entirely belly. There's nothing attractive to see, anyway."

He didn't speak. If he contradicted her, it would seem inappropriate. If he agreed, she would feel hurt.

"I had to come." He said after a deep breath. "I had to see how you were doing."

"You worry too much, Remus." She laughed quietly as she pulled the covers higher on her body. "I'm in good hands, everyone's looking after me."

"Your belly shakes when you laugh." He smiled widely. It made her laugh even harder. "Good Lord…" he said, seeing a picture of Sirius Black on the mantelpiece.

"Oh, I'm sorry…" She seethed, wanting to stand and take it down. She couldn't get up, for fear of embarrassing Remus again. "I…it…shouldn't be there."

"I never got a chance to tell him…" She could see the tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Tell him what, Remus?" She asked, knowingly.

"That I loved him." He whimpered. "I really did love him. He was like a brother to me. He was my best friend. He was…my lover."

"I'm sure he loved you, too, Remus." Hermione was quick to add, hoping to stave off his sadness.

"I'm never going to let that happen again." He interjected, sternly.

"Let what happen, Remus?" She asked.

He moved forward, towards her. He bent over her, looking her in the eyes. A tear dripped from his right eye, sliding across his cheek and down his neck. Another dropped from his left eye, landing on her jaw line.

His eyes sparkled with tears that he could no longer hold back. She could hear the breaths catch in his throat and see the tension in his chest. "Remus…" she whispered up to him.

He stood again, grabbing up the edge of the covers she held in her hand. Hermione yelped as he whipped them back, down toward the foot of the bed. She was naked, exposed. She looked up at him fearfully. His lower lip quivered as he sighed out, telling Hermione that she was beautiful. He dropped, suddenly, to his knees. He bent over her belly, kissing her skin tenderly. His hands gently caressed her pregnant stomach.

He cried into her skin, letting tears fall from his eyes onto her flesh.

"I won't let it happen again, Hermione." He sobbed quietly out. "I won't miss out on the chance to tell someone I love them."

She couldn't speak. It felt right.

"Remus…" She whispered.

"Hermione…These babies are mine. I was the one who sneaked into your room that night, before you'd even made love to Ron. That was ten weeks ago, almost to the day."

"Why wouldn't you have told me?" She cried, now, too. "I told Ron he was the father…I didn't know who it was!"

"You can't marry him, Hermione." Remus cried out. "These are our children. They're my children! I want to raise my babies…I won't let them go throughout life without the love of their father!"

The last word struck Hermione like a battle axe. He was their father. There was no more guessing, no more suspecting. No more dream future with Ron. Remus Lupin was the father of her children. A man who was old enough to be her own father. A man who was now crying into her pregnant belly. It made sense. She thought her lover was familiar. Remus was someone she saw so often he was a permanent fixture in her life. He fit the description. Bearded with curling hair, soft eyes and a strong body. His voice was deep, smooth and inviting. She wondered why she hadn't seen it all along. She wondered what she would do now.

"What will we do now, Remus?" She inquired, slowly. "_Will you be their father?_"

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So, now you know. Are you disappointed? Are you pleased? Please continue to Read and review. The story is by no means over.

Meg


	18. Chapter 18

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

**_ADDITIONAL NOTE: _**Yeah, I'm really dumb. I got so caught up in this story I forgot how tiny a 10-week pregnant belly is. Barely showing, no? Really Hermione just feels like she's "all belly", although she is literally like "no belly at all". Forgive my retard-o-ness.

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In the next moment, their lips were pressed together in a relentless kiss. As they parted, the luscious, sweet skin of his lips stuck a little to hers. The tiny bristles of his beard has brushed her chin, but were too fine to grate like the facial hair Ron had. She hesitated before opening her eyes; she wondered if this moment might fall apart and she'd be left with only another dream to unravel.

"Is that a yes?" She pondered aloud.

But, as she opened her eyes, she could his answer was not as she might have hoped. The gentle look in his eyes had dripped away with his tears. Her optimism was childish, she thought, how could she ever expect a good outcome?

"I…" His voice broke into short sounds as they entered her ears, each word needing separate processing from the next. "I couldn't possibly, Hermione."

She could feel the mixture of searing pain and rejection blend with the sting of her welling tears. Her lips parted from the lack of belief. Fairy-tale ending out the window, she thought. She'd tricked one boy into marrying her, and ruined a very special relationship with Remus. How could her body betray her like this?

"Please don't look away," he said as she did just that. "You know I can't Hermione…I'm old enough to be _your_ father."

"That doesn't bother me." She snapped her face back towards him, a face dressed in wrath. "What bothers me is that you'd just walk out on me like this! ON US!" her fingers trailed her slowing growing belly.

"What would people think, Hermione!" He yelled back at her.

"No worse than if you just fucked me and left me here to raise our children alone! They might think you'd taken responsibility for your actions, you know, done the right thing…..for once." She glared at him, eyes burning into his chest.

He sat back on her bed, pulling her covers up to conceal her bared body. His touch was as gentle and caring as he could manage, he was determined to be aloof. He wanted her to be the one to make the decision.

"If I stayed, it would be the second thing I'd done right…" He smiled to himself.

"Fine." Her tone was harsh. "Then I'll raise them with Ron, someone who's standing up for actions he didn't even commit."

"I think he's very brave," He said while she nodded. "However, I'm having trouble allowing it."

"It's not your choice anymore." Her lips were pursed. "It is my choice."

"Then what do you choose?" The pain was back in his eyes, fear of being kept out of the babies' lives. "I have to respect whatever it is…"

"I can't rope Ron into this; I can't ruin his life to salvage mine, Remus." She looked down at her belly and felt the warmth from deep inside herself. "But, I can't ruin theirs' either…"

She looked up at him, hopeful like a child pleading to be picked up and held. Her eyes were pleading with him to stay, to be a man. To be a father. If she believed he could, why couldn't he believe?

"Having a werewolf for a father won't ruin their lives, Hermione?" He swallowed hard.

"We can….deal…" She murmured.

"Deal with me going missing for a week at a time? Or deal with me nearly mauling our kids?" His eyes were fierce.

"Remus, you know we can deal!" She yelped. "There are ways to diminish the effects, you know them…"

He looked away from her. He was trying to fabricate reasons to leave, reasons to escape this potentially disastrous situation.

"You just don't want them, do you?" She hissed.

She'd caught his attention in the worst way; his eyes bore holes in her skin.

"You want me to end this pregnancy don't you? Take the easy way out…hmm?" Her teeth were gritted, lips drawn to a tight frown.

"Please Hermione, don't think that." It hurt him that she would even consider him to be so cruel. "I don't care if I live or die, but you three are all that matters now."

"Then make this better!" She pleaded. "You know how!"

He did know, he knew how hard it would be to solve their problem. She wasn't thinking of all the consequences, he knew as well. He'd have to inform the entire wizarding world that he'd impregnated a minor, and a few select muggles. He could only image that visit with her parents, who were both younger than he was. "Gee, sorry I knocked your little girl up…" he could hear himself say, to his own horror. She wasn't imagining her own disgrace, a disgrace that would be far less painful with people thinking she's been impregnated by a fellow teenager. But, that meant running Ron's life in their wake.

"Yes, Hermione…" He spoke slowly, head swimming. "I know."

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Sorry for the long wait, but it's senior year….applying for college and the like takes a lot outta me. I'll keep updating, but not very often….perhaps once again before Christmas break is up.

Meg


	19. Chapter 19

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

**_ADDITIONAL NOTE: _**Yeah, I'm really dumb. I got so caught up in this story I forgot how tiny a 10-week pregnant belly is. Barely showing, no? Really Hermione just feels like she's "all belly", although she is literally like "no belly at all". Forgive my retard-o-ness.

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His words killed her inside; they were a pain sidled up against her unborn children. She found herself bundled up in a warm blanket, his hands keeping it close to her skin. He'd wrapped her up to keep the cold of the air out, the nip of wind way. She'd been almost like a doll in his arms while he swaddled her, her anger left her limp and almost without care.

He lay her down on the bed, on her side. She relaxed as the side of her face met the pillowcase, a pillow that had become one of her few sources of comfort in the last weeks. She nestled close to him when he spooned her from behind, ignoring her own thoughts of how awkward the situation was. She wanted him to soothe her, to cradle away her fears and feelings of hopelessness.

He tucked her honey-suckle strands of hair behind her ear and kissed her cheek. He pulled her even tighter to him with one strong arm, as if she were his stuffed animal.

She felt a strange sensation come to the surface of her skin, a desire for him to let his fingers wander over her cool flesh. She wanted him to map out her freckles like constellations that speckled the night sky.

"How can you love them so much and, yet, have trouble deciding?" She murmured, eyes still closed.

His words stuck in his mouth, almost as if his tongue has frozen and lay flaccid in his mouth. Her words made so much sense and his ears tingled in disgust for his own self.

"Is it because you don't love me?" She asked after a moment of drawn-out silence.

"No," He whispered into the space behind her ear, mouth clouded by tousled strands of her hair. "I do."

Her eyes opened, not out of shock, but of semi-relief. She wanted to hear him whisper "I love you, always." She knew those words wouldn't seep from his pink lips or cool grey eyes. She knew it would only be in her mind that he could make such confessions.

"You love me?" She asked, almost without breath. He grasped her should, wanting her to roll towards him, he wanted their faces to be mirror images.

A smile crept onto his lips, one that showed how silly her question was to him.

"You make me feel like I'm seventeen again," He whispered. "You give me new life, like the fountain of youth. I love you for how you make me feel…but that isn't nearly it. I love your spirit, your wild will and demure, manipulative ways."

She smiled back, yet kept her eyes from meeting his, trying to keep herself from attaching too much sentiment to this moment.

"And I love your freckles." He added, to her slight giggle. "Please don't think me a nasty old man, but your body is…amazing. I don't mean it in a sexual way, although it is nothing but pleasing in that form…" He blushed a tiny bit. "I mean, the way you hold your head up, and the slight dip of your shoulders when you're frustrated…"

He took a deep breath and touched her cheek, forcing their eyes to meet.

"Look at me when I tell you I love you…" He commanded and pleaded to her in the same words. "These children you carry….I am in awe of the way you have created life."

"We have created life." She corrected.

"Dear Lord," He gasped. "How are we to solve this problem of ours?"

"Ours…" She echoed back with a tiny amount of glee and possession.

"I'll need to tell the Headmistress…" He looked off into the distance. "Ron, as well. Oh, and your parents…"

"I think I can handle Ron," She assured him. "And we'll tell my parents together."

"That leaves me with Minerva." He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, one just forming. "What will I tell her?"

"Not the truth," She yelped.

He locked eyes with hers once more, amber and grey reflected off of one another, like pools of sea glass. She reached out and stroked his beard with her knuckles, a sweet show of her affections for her. She didn't think he was a pedophile for their love affair, she saw it for the deeper levels of connections they'd made. She saw the reasoning behind his reaching out to touch her. She saw the love.

"Perhaps," He though aloud. "Perhaps, we should just disappear."

He saw the look her eyes cried out.

"We can't escape this…" She said, words tainted in disappointment. "We can't just hide."

"No, disappear for us. Not to hide our "shame", but to revel in it." He replied sweetly. "We'll marry and honeymoon in the mountains, you could birth our babes surrounded by the arms of Mother Nature."

"Do you mean it?" her words bounded with excitement.

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So I updated sooner than I thought….I got bored, I only had one final today. I'll write again soon…

Meg


	20. Chapter 20

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

_**NOTE**: There was some confusion in the last chapter for readers who had not gotten around to reading the fifth and sixth books. Kreacher is a house elf who Harry inherited from the Black family. Because Kreacher belongs to Harry, he has to obey his every command (like Dobby had to obey all of the Malfoys' demands). Additionally, Kreacher hates muggle-born or blood-traitor witches and wizards._

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man

**_ADDITIONAL NOTE: _**Yeah, I'm really dumb. I got so caught up in this story I forgot how tiny a 10-week pregnant belly is. Barely showing, no? Really Hermione just feels like she's "all belly", although she is literally like "no belly at all". Forgive my retard-o-ness.

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Between Remus' confession of love for her and his agreement to stay, Hermione's spirits could not have been higher. She had trouble sleeping because she was so excited, her mind simply would not slow down enough to allow REM to slink its way in. It was nearly dawn before her eyelids closed; the sun had begun to turn the sky pink and red.

Through her mind flit images of a Celtic wedding, daisy crown and all. She dreamt of being married in a field of a million wild flowers in the early morning, while the leaves were still decorated with dew drops and tiny spider webs. She could see Remus' face, once wrinkled and tired, lit up with a youthful smile. He beamed at her as she stepped through the thick grass towards him. She awoke too soon.

"Hermione!" Remus' voice rang out, loud and sharp.

Her eyelids opened and she looked up, feeling an enormous pain in her insides. His hands were dripping with blood, a look of sheer terror dressed his face. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Her back was hand-printed in blood.

"Wha…Where's this all from?" She yelped as he squeezed her and rocked her.

"Shhh…." He whispered, cooing into her ear. "Madam Pompfrey's on her way."

"Why?" She yelped again, trying to push him off of her, yet his body weight won. "What's happened?"

He moved back away from her, letting go of her with great resistance. Hermione stared at the pooling of blood on her covers. A thin stream of blood dripped to the wooden flooring, and her sheets were covered, as well.

"My babies?..." She half asked, half screamed. She learched forward on the bed, yanking up her covers. What she saw was a sea of blood emitting from her, a pooling of the death within her body.

"Quickly!" She heard Ginny call from the hallway, seeing the young red head dragging an older woman, Madam Pompfrey.

"Help…." Hermione cried, tears had begun to stream from her face. She clawed at the flesh of her belly. She wanted to tear herself open, she wanted to tear herself apart.

There was no more that Hermione could bear. A crowd was forming at her door, people peering in and asking "What is it?" She saw Harry looking in, eyes clouded with confusion. Ron thrust through the gathering, shoving the people aside. A deep angry growl escaped his throat when he saw the blood.

Madam Pompfrey commanded Hermione to lay still, she pulled out her wand and said she would take care of the blood before she could take her to the hospital wing. Everything seemed to slow as she saw Remus backing away, disappearing into the corner, sinking down and holding his knees. Ron fell to his knees, crying in great sobs.

Harry's eyes were blank, and he breathed in great gasps, chest rising and falling with a shake to it, like his ribs were loose and rattling.

"No!" Hermione struggled out, "No….you can't…" Hermione's hands began to rake the blood towards her as best they can, trying to gather it into one mass. She seemed to think that if she could hold it all together, she might be able to save her unborn children.

"Hermione, stop this!" Madam Pompfrey shrieked.

"_Immobulus!"_ Ginny called out from next to Ron. Hermione was unable to move, falling back onto her four-poster bed, arms drenched in blood.

Remus lay curled in the corner, his fingers clenched around his ribs. He couldn't breathe at the sight of Hermione's sad, futile struggle to save what could not be saved. Ron had gone silent, fainted at Ginny's feet. The heart break had been too much for all three "parents". The sound of her sobbing could be heard in the common room, everyone had fallen silent and her tiny intake of air and pulsing tears echoed off the stone.

There would be no wedding, Remus thought. There would be no wilderness honey moon, no babies and the smell of diapers and infant shampoo. There would be no joy in his life from that moment on. There was nothing he had left. And the image of the cabin broke, crumbled into grains of sand. Picture frames of tiny ones on the mantle piece shattered, baby clothes that smelled like baby food drifted away with the blood. Hermione, in her wedding dress and ring-clad, drifted away with the glistening tears. Now, she would never have him, he feared. Nothing they had said meant quite the same thing now, now that circumstances had changed. How could she love a man who'd brought her so much pain? Had the joy of their future, of their babies, been enough to make it last? He wondered what would happen. He wondered if Hermione would even be able to live with him, live with herself, even. He knew she was strong, but this was beyond strength feeble reach.

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Please, please, please, DON'T hate me. I'll make it all better, I promise.

Please, R&R….tell me where you think I should go with this. I have an idea, but all ideas are subject to reader desire.

Meg


	21. NOT A CHAPTER!

1Hey Guys,

I know this is a bummer but I can't update now...or for a while. I love the continued reviewing, so that can be kept up. laughs I just suffered a decently traumatic break up with my boyfriend...four years (well and a half) gone and no prom date. I'm about to graduate and need to concentrate on my grades for the last quarter in order to make Honors College at FSU (GO SEMINOLES!).I promise to update as soon as school lets out and I can actually breathe again.

Sorry to have made you all wait so long, I kept telling myself "oh, I'll update this weekend" and then I'd end up swamped with AP Lit stuff or Government work to do. I WILL update soon, around late May or early June. Updates may taper off in early August, though, as I'll be relocating to the other end of the state (900 bagillion hours away...okay, only 7 ½).

Meg


	22. Chapter 21

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's outta the bag. It's Remus.)

**_ADDITIONAL NOTE: _**Yeah, I'm really dumb. I got so caught up in this story I forgot how tiny a 10-week pregnant belly is. Barely showing, no? Really Hermione just feels like she's "all belly", although she is literally like "no belly at all". Forgive my retard-o-ness.

Song: Mad World, Gary Jules (Tears for Fears Cover)

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Remus's reflection was haunting him today, ribs bruised in painful grasping. He felt so feeble, nearly lifeless, that he wanting to give up breathing. He could only wonder how Hermione was. He was barred at the door when he tried to visit her, 'family only.' he was told. He could see Ron was in the room, sitting at her side while she lay asleep. His brain mocked the idea that Ron was family, he and Hermione were only bound by a now late pregnancy that wasn't even of his doing. Remus's insides seared with pain as he saw the look on Hermione's sleeping face. Confusion. Pain. Loss.

He padded his way back from the hospital wing, letting his feet strike the cold tiled floor dully, steps as lifeless as himself. The numbness had set in, the self-preserving loss of feeling was the only thing keeping him from throwing himself into the depths of the lake. He wondered if the water, as it filled his lungs, would feel just as numb.

"Tiddlywinks..." He murmured to the Fat Lady.

His face stung as he resisted the urge to cry at the password. Never would his children play with tiddlywinks. Never would they even have the chance, if they wanted to. He wondered if Hermione and Ron would give their tiny babies a proper burial. Even if it could only be a symbolic burial, only to put their spirits to rest. Could he be there, without looking suspicious? Could he not give it away with the smoldering pain branded into every cell in his body? He wondered if Hermione would let him be there. He had already caused so much pain.

He decided to not give her the choice. She would only do it for him, not because she wanted or needed him there. He didn't want to press that painful decision on her shoulders. He climbed the stairs to her room and pressed the wooden door with his fingertips. It drifted away from his touch like he was sure Hermione would the next time they met. He decided, they would not meet. He knew the cycle, they would cry and bind themself together in pity and pain. And eventually, Hermione would get hurt again. He must save her from pain.

His fingers quivered as he penned her a short goodbye. He was careful not to het his tears ruin the inking on the page, not to smudge the dark pigments that reflected his grief. He signed it without an 'I love you', despite the immense desire to paint the walls of the room with his love. Save her from pain, he thought. He laid the letter on her white pillowcase, careful not to rumple the new sheets that replaced her bloodied ones. As he turned, he saw a magical photo of her on the mantle, smile gone and looking melancholy. He tucked into his pocket as he approached the door.

Just as his fingers encircled the knob, the knob turned back on him. He stepped backward as the door opened, a little shocked. He prayed that it would not be Hermione or Ron. And in that split second, the air in his lungs hung as if frozen, not moving.

"Hello?" A raspy voice called. Black hair peeked around the edge of the wooden door, followed by pale skin and striking green eyes. The thin body followed the head, dressed in muggle clothes.

"Oh, hello Harry." Remus breathed out. He could only be a bit excited that it wasn't Hermione or Ron. He was unable to feel for Harry right now, and the boy caused no reaction.

"Remus? Is that you?" Harry came around the door, standing toe-to-toe with Remus. "I thought you were Ron...what're you doing here?"

"Just...checking up on Hermione's stuff." He lied. "I wondered if I could bring her anything to make her more comfortable..."

Harry knew it was a lie. He knew that, like himself, Remus was unable to visit Hermione because he wasn't family. He wasn't even let near the door. This was no usual occurrence in the hospital wing, they'd never had a pregnancy or violent miscarriage like Hermione's. They weren't bending any rules up there.

"Hermione's parents will be here soon,"Harry said quietly. "Are you sure you won't stay to meet them and tell them how you were there when it happened?"

"No, I don't think I will."

"I dunno, as much as I'm not, I think they might be relieved that it happened...I mean, their teenage daughter getting pregnant and being the talk of the town like that without their knowledge? That's tough to hear." Harry's eyes dodged around as he spoke.

"Don't be an asshole, Harry." Remus growled. "They're going to be worried about their little girl."

Remus pushed past Harry and out the door. The words 'their little girl' bounced around in his skull like a rubber ball. He had never thought about the fact that she wasn't just a woman. He'd never stopped to remember that she was someone's daughter. Someone's baby girl. If he'd been her father, he'd want the man that did that to his little girl murdered. He was old enough to be her father.

Harry slowly crossed the room, to Hermione's bed. He'd noticed the upside down sheet of parchment when Remus had stepped away from him. He thumbed it, wondering if he should just forget it and walk away. It must be personal, he thought. Something secret. But Remus was his friend, too. Remus wasn't anymore friends with Hermione or Ron than Harry. He turned the paper over to read it.

" _I've done nothing but hurt you, Hermione. I can't cause you anymore pain._

_I won't let myself. I wish I could give you the world, like I promised I would._

_I'll make this all up you to one day. _

_Remus."_

Hermione dreamed of Remus, sad and scruffy again, asleep on a train car with his head against a window. Trees and fields flashed by the window as the train chugged along its tracks, heading to nowhere. Cold mountains were ghostly in the background, not moving while the foreground zoomed away with each passing second. She called out to his unhearing ears. She reached out to his unfeeling flesh. Even before she awoke she knew he was gone. Had he been any other man, she would have called him a coward. But, this was not cowardice, this was self-preservation. Perhaps he even did it to spare her.

When she awoke, she wondered how he would deal when the full moon came. She wondered who would quell his demons and soothe his pain. She would have Ron and Harry to help her lick her wounds and mourn. Who would he have? He would only have himself. But, she knew he was the last person he wanted. He couldn't bear to look at himself now, just as she would never look at herself quite the same again.

She pushed the covers off of her body, too warm to be comfortable. Ron was gone now, and her parents were waiting at the train station for Ron to see them to the castle. He had argued with Madam Pompfrey, not wanting to leave her while she slept. He had asked Harry to go for him, in his place, but Harry declined. Harry knew his friend needed a distraction from this, if only for a minute. Hermione let her feet touch the cold, sterile floor. She'd wanted to give birth in this room. But, it was Hermione who was reborn within those walls.

"I need you to come back, Remus." Hermione thought, letting it drift into the atmosphere, hoping he would hear it.

"I can't do this alone."

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I'm still making it better. I managed to have a moment to write. I hope I have more, and I hope this will do until then.

Please R&R

Meg


	23. Chapter 22

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's outta the bag. It's Remus.)

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He pressed his face against the glass, nose smudging the dull and uneven panes. He looked out onto the grounds, over the peeling old fence to the road. The young muggle boy was just dropping the newspaper from London onto the front path. Remus shook his head, not wanting to ever read another newspaper, muggle or magic, for the remainder of his years. Yesterday's paper had, tucked away in the back pages, a brief announcement of the marriage between two young lovers from the city.

The paper read "Weasley-Granger Wedding", and it broke Remus's heart. He knew the day would come one day, but he had thought that seven years would be too soon. An eternity was too soon for Remus's tastes.

"I really should give them a ring," he said breathlessly to himself as he unstuck his nose from the window. "If only I knew their number...or address, I could send them an owl."

"Who're you talking about, Lupin?"

Remus turned at the voice. A young, dark-haired, Scottish witch emerged from the only bedroom in his little cottage by the sea. She was rubbing her forehead and brushing her unruly tendrils back from her blue eyes. It had been those piercing, crystalline blue eyes that had lured him to her in the pub, how could he had forgotten her so quickly? All it took was one thought of Hermione and all other thoughts went fleeting.

"No one, Madeline." He murmured, almost angered. "Don't you think you should be heading out now?"

They'd slept together nearly every night this month, since his last full-moon incident. He'd let loose seven years of sexual frustration into her hungry body and yet he wished to cast her off so easily. Even now, there was no one who could soothe his aching soul or wash away his sense of tremendous guilt. Not a day has passed where his heart didn't the feel searing pain of his loss. He wondered if Hermione had ever forgiven him, or if she was waiting for the day to call him out for vanishing in her greatest time of need.

He felt like a coward for running away in the face of prolonged pain. He couldn't bear the idea of having to face Hermione's father and admit that it was he, a man just a few years older than both of Hermione's parents, who took from his daughter her innocence and left her to clean up their mess. He knew deep down that Hermione had not been a virgin that night. The tension between Harry and Ron gave it away, there was a burning rivalry that reflected in their eyes each time they shared a room.

"I don't want to leave, Remus." Madeline grumbled from the couch. "Isn't it about time you let me stay past noon? I getting really tired of getting kicked out every day 'round this time."

"Sorry, love, but I'm leaving this time. You can stay, if it pleases you." He stood from his peeling, old chair and moved to the kitchen. He used the small hand pump to fill his mug with water and rinse his ceramic plate. He wet his fingers and used the moisture to flatten his long beard hairs.

"Where are you going, eh?" She whispered.

"London." He pushed the pine door to his room open. He emerged a few moments later with a rucksack filled with a few spare pieces of clothing and his wand poking out of his pocket.

"You're serious?" She said, hopping up from the couch.

"Yes. I've business to attend to...you know you're really welcome to stay. I just won't be here for a few days. You could look after my dogs, Maddy. Keep the place in order? Play wife-y." He joked, knowing she'd rather die than be someone's wife.

"I'm not your old lady, Remus." She smirked. "I get the hint, doll. Just stop by when you get back into town, alright?" He nodded as he walked out the front door. A moment later he peaked his head back in through the door.

"Lock up when you leave, okay?"

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Hermione awoke, skin too warm to sleep. She and Ron lay next to the dying fire in their den, skin still burning from the love they'd made only a few hours before. She'd never really enjoyed Ron as much as she did now. They'd never really forged a deep connection before they'd had these moments alone. Her parents had forced them to marry shortly after she's miscarried, even though they no longer had to. They felt it was the right thing to do, and both Ron and the entirety of the Weasley clan agreed.

She felt as though someone had clipped her wings that day. Swallowed in the quicksand of propriety. It had been a quiet courthouse wedding with no frills and only a dozen guests. Hermione refused to call it a "wedding", she'd only signed a paper and they'd been declared husband and wife. Hermione Weasley was born that day. Ron promised her from that day on that they'd truly marry when they'd left Hogwarts and had saved a little money.

They'd scrimped and saved enough just to have the little ceremony they had in only seven years.

Ron wanted it announced in the paper so his relative across the UK could hear if they hadn't known. Hermione wanted Remus to read it and seek her out, stake his claim. She knew it wasn't a realistic dream, but dream of it she did. She imagined it was Remus who made love to her each night and who awoke her in the morning with gentle loving kisses.

If only she knew her dream would be coming true soon than even she'd imagined...

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Okay, I know it's short and doesn't offer much Hermione POV.I was in a Remus mood.

Please R&R. More will come soon. How do you all feel about marital infidelity?

Meg


	24. Chapter 23

"Behind Closed Doors" By Kross

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's outta the bag. It's Remus.)

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Their lips met in a heated fervor that threatened to eat them both alive. Her nails ground into the tender skin of his neck while his fingers grasped at her supple- fleshed hips. The force of their meeting bodies, colliding to ignite an intoxicating lust, echoed in the tiny alley. Hermione wondered if some passerby might mistake the mutual attacking as a rape. Remus wondered how quickly he could get her out of public eye to explore seven years of blossoming.

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Instead of heading straight to London, Remus decided to make a stop-off at the Burrow. He found he knew the way without thinking, like second nature, while drifting sadly on his broomstick. He wondered if he would ever find Hermione, if she would even want to see him after the disastrous circumstance under which they last parted. Would Ron give them a moment to be alone with one another? Or would he insist to enjoy the company of Remus, as well? Would they want Harry to join them? (A disaster in the making, Remus was sure, because if Harry only had suspicions about the past, he would surely know)

The Weasleys were as pleasant as they had always been. It took Remus nearly two hours to leave the Burrow with address and telephone number for Ron and Hermione in hand. He was barred at the door when he tried to leave without a full meal in his stomach and a dozen mincemeat pies. He'd left with the number, the pies and the promise of his own Weasley jumper, despite his protesting. He left with kisses on the cheek and hugs and 'we missed you so much!'s. He felt suffocated when he left. All he wanted was to see Hermione's gorgeous eyes.

Ron and Hermione didn't live in a tiny London flat like Remus had expected. It wasn't in a bad neighborhood or located on top of a tiny bakery or shop. They owned a home in the suburbs, a very nice and family-friendly community outside of London about 10 minutes drive. He wondered if they had a dog, or a cat, or maybe a baby he was unaware of. He feared the worst, but hoped for the best.

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Hermione's heart leapt from her chest when she'd picked up the receiver and heard Remus's voice on the other end. She pretended she didn't recognize his voice in order to stall for time enough regain her composure.

"You've reached the Weasley's residence." She cooed into the phone, a mixture of pleasant and formal.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Remus answered back, surprised that he would refer to her as so.

"Yes, this is she. Might I ask to whom I am speaking?" She was almost laughing with delight.

"Yes..." He found himself hesitating. "Hermione, it's Remus."

"Remus? Remus Lupin? Is that you?" She smiled into the phone. "I haven't heard from you in ages! How have you been?"

"Hermione, I want to meet you." He said, ignoring her questions. "Would you please?"

"I...umm...with Ron?" She stammered out after a moment, cheeks blazing red.

"No. Just the two of us. Anywhere you want to meet."

"Yes." She decided quickly. "In Diagon." She heard the other end of the line go dead.

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He knew they hadn't decided on a time. It didn't matter to him. He waited in Diagon for two days before he caught glimpse of her. He saw her sitting alone in a coffee shop, eyes looking past the window through which he saw her. She sipped her tea and cooled it with her sweet breath. He could feel her warm breath on his neck, and the tender kisses she had laid on his skin, from years before. It felt as though she'd kissed him only a moment before. After a few long moments of soaking her in, he pressed his hand against the glass, leaving beautiful fingerprints like spider webs on the ancient uneven panes.

His fingers caught her eye and she glanced up. He looked like a puppy in a pet store window to her; he was a scruffy mutt begging to be taken home. She was awed by how shorn and short his hair now was, no longer was it curling at his shoulders, it was now peppered with grey and shaggy to his ear lobes. He looked more youthful and yet older in the same moment. Instantaneously, she felt a deep hunger to hold him arise in her core. She wanted to let her fingers brush the days of stubble that decorated his face.

He felt it was an hour from the time their pupils met and widened to take the other in to when she stepped across the threshold. Her heels clicked on the cobbled ground, and he stared at them. Heels and Hermione didn't go together, he thought. Or does she wear heels often? He wondered what she did for a living, did she work? Was she a stay-at-home wife? If she was, that would prove interesting to see what she would have to do to keep satisfied with her life. Her curiosity could not be put to rest if she was kept at home all day. He felt suddenly outraged that Ron would make her stay at home like that, bored and subservient. But, he knew she did not stay home. She was out doing something brilliant and scintillating with her life.

"Hello Remus," She spoke first, voice like an angel.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," He replied.

In one swift motion he stepped forward, gathered her into his arms and kissed her until she relaxed in his arms and gave in. They stood in the doorway, kissing until their lips were raw.

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I said I'd make it better. It's getting there. I just love where this is going!

Please R&R.

Meg


	25. Please Read!

Hey Guys,

I know this sounds really strange, but I'm considering taking the stories two different ways.

How would that sound? Would you all read two different story lines?

I'm planning on making one a little more dramatic than the other (okay, way more dramatic and darker)

one the other a little fluffier and more realistic in terms of affairs. Tell me what you think.

Also, I'm planning on (in the near future) to go back and edit the first ten chapters or so.

I'm not going to change anything that would affect the story line, simply fix a few mistakes and make

the chapters flow better and spruce up a few horrible parts (forgive the rediculous nature of some of the

chapters, I wrote them a year ago and wrote most of them without a lot of condsideration for the complete

story).

How does that sound? Do you all want a choice as to what you read?

Meg


	26. Chapter 24

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

A/n: I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's outta the bag. It's Remus.)

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The tiny bristles of his beard tickled her cheek as he leaned into her, whispering into her ear and kissing her soft, pink earlobe. No longer could they stand there, making a scene of their passions. They agreed to meet in his room at the inn in half an hour with a gentle nod of their heads. Hermione could feel bubbles of excitement boil up into chest, flooding her heart with waves of giddiness from anticipation.

She watched as he walked away, robes clinging to his eternally attractive, lithe frame. She marveled at his body's astounding ability to look so young, despite his years. The gap in their ages never really bothered her, though she knew that some people would find it a ridiculous span. She'd just has her twenty-fourth birthday. When she thought about it, that meant that Remus was no younger than forty. She guessed he was nearer to forty-five.

After he had disappeared from view, she felt the urge to move from where they had stood. She shifted her weight forward, away from the cool stone of the building she'd been pressed against in their moments of passion. Her heels clicked only faintly as she walked down the alley, her spirits too high for her feet to strike with any sort of weight to them. When she rounded the corner she found herself only a few feet from a women with a tiny baby girl. The woman had the baby in a sling around her neck, where the baby could nestle against her mother's body and hear the comforting noise of such a familiar heart beat.

"What am I getting myself into?" She wondered aloud.

She knew that bringing Remus back into her life was not for the best. She loved Ron with all her heart, despite sometimes feeling tied down. She was content with her life to eventually become a Molly Weasley. There was nothing wrong with that kind of life, but she knew it didn't suit her. She was proud that Ron had taken a job at the ministry assisting Harry Potter (who was now the youngest Minister of Magic in all of history). She wanted a successful husband and the security that came with it. She just didn't know is she was ready for it all yet.

Deep down, in Hermione's core, there was still a wild spirit that she'd never been able to let roam. She'd gone from being a mousy young girl to being a wife before she'd had time to be wild and carefree. She didn't resent it, but she just didn't feel complete. She knew it would be best to get this out now if she was going to get it out of her system.

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Remus stood by the dusty window in his room, bathed in the mellow sunlight that flooded the room. He tapped his fingers on the warped wooden window sill as he watched for Hermione to come up the street. The clock chimed down the hall.

"It's been an hour..." He murmured. "Where are you?"

He saw woman after woman cross in front of the inn, and each time he saw a woman with the same gingery-colored hair Hermione had, his heart jumped. He was beginning to feel resigned, beginning to wonder if Hermione had changed her mind about meeting him. Changed her mind about having this affair with him.

He wasn't sure he could bear that kind of rejection. She'd become some sort of goddess to him over the years; she was the first thing he thought of in the morning and the last thing at night. In his spare moments, he wondered what they would be doing if their babies had survived. Would they be living in the same little house the Ron and Hermione shared now? Would the live in the woods and let the children, who'd be nearly six years old, wander through the depths of the forest?

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Hermione found herself walking the familiar way to the inn without thinking. How many times had she been there since her first year at Hogwarts? Too many times to count. She wondered if her life would've been different had she and Ron not married immediately after she'd miscarried. She imagined they would have still married after Remus had left so suddenly. She still would be here, but maybe not meeting Remus as prospective lovers. She wondered if Remus and herself could be friends without being lovers. Perhaps they could even be close friends; they could be each other's confidant, pillar of strength and always be there when the other needed them.

Hermione didn't think she was the type of woman to cheat on her husband, especially one as wonderful and responsible as Ronald Weasley. She didn't think she was the type of woman to have gotten pregnant in school by a man almost twice her age. Hermione was a lot of things she never could've imagined she'd be by the time she was twenty-five. She was a wife, she was a prospective teacher for Hogwarts, and she was adulteress, already.

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Okay. What do you think? This is last chapter before I take the story in the two different directions.

Chapter will be labeled either "a" or "b". "A" will be the happier side of the story, with a more fairy-tale type feeling. "B" will be the drama-packed, darker, angst-ier side of the story (this will be my preferred side, btw). I'll try to post one of each when I post, as opposed to one story line faster than the other. Who knows if that'll work out though.

Please review! I don't know if you people even dig my story all that much anymore.

Meg


	27. Chapter 25

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's outta the bag. It's Remus.)

A/N: I usually write chapters to songs, and I feel that listening to the song helps to better feel the flow that the song has established, so...from now on, I will list the song below.

Song: Bittersweet symphony by The Verve, Donnie Darko Soundtrack (#'s 4,7,10,12)

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She stood with the side of her face pressed against the warm wood of his door. She's rested there for a moment, listening to the noises he made from within his room. He whole body was pressed against the maple door, like she wanted to be pressed against his body. She was terrified to go in. She feared the door knob might electrocute her, should she try to turn it.

She heard the bed frame creek as he sat down upon it, sighing in mixed sadness and desperation.

She felt his pain like it was her own, and it was her own in some manner. She wanted so much to throw the door open and plaster her body against his, to yank his clothing from his body and to demonstrate exactly how much she had missed him. How much she craved him. How much she needed him.

She eased the door open, trying to quiet the wood-on-wood noise that crept out from the sticking of the old, warped door. She expected to see his figure on the bed, back turned to her, still gazing out the window. She never expected him to be right beyond the swing of the door, face expressionless and eyes filled with nothing.

"Hello..." He whispered.

She swallowed in her dry throat, and chose not to speak. She let the door close behind her. She stood, barefooted, with her heavy heels in her hand. She let them drop to the floor with a loud, resounding, clank. He took a step forward and grasped up her still outstretched fingers.

"Oh, whatever are we to do, 'Mione?" He asked as he kissed the softness that was her hands. She let him run her fingers across his lips without complaint. "This can never really be..."

Something strange had come over her, it washed up her body like a coolness she had never felt. She felt as though her concerns peeled off, like an extra layer of skin. And as she molted these false feelings, she felt renewed. Her eyes glistened with her newly found sense of abandon.

"For now, Remus, it can." She whispered, faintly louder than the beating of her heart. "Please...,"

She inched towards him, hazel eyes focused on her bare feet, and looked up at him with a wicked smile. "Stop talking." She finished.

She placed her left hand on his chest, her wedding ring missing. She slid it up the soft fabric of his shirt, and let it come to rest in the crook of his neck, fingers idly curling the hairs that adorned the back of his neck. She tilted her head back, just enough to look him in the eyes.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" She asked, tone ironically childlike. Before he could reply, her lips were on his own, and the pressure was delightful. Her subtly moist lips were soft and inviting, like her flesh. He parted her lips and tasted her nectarous mouth, tongue lapping at her own in mild amusement.

She pulled away from him, taking the kiss with her, as she back to the door. He thought she made to leave, to run away and he wouldn't allow it. He backed with her, the kiss growing more forceful with each step.

"No...you...don't..." He murmured as their lips parted briefly for air. He entangled a hand in her tawny locks of thick hair, holding her against his body without mercy. Her refusal had gone with her worries in the moments before. She knew that when she had turned the knob to enter the room, she had already gone a step too far. She would never be able to refuse him once she had seen his eyes, so loving, and entirely focused on her own eyes.

Something was different about the way that Remus looked at her. He had never been like other men, whose eyes always drifted to her curves, her breasts or nether regions. He never looked at her like a sexual object, or a woman, really. He could peer past the earthly pleasures she could provide. He saw her as another soul. Their souls danced in recognition as he pressed her against the door, bodies molding into familiar forms.

She withheld nothing from him. She nibbled at his lips and let the kiss drift to his neck. She suckled at the prickly skin below his jaw-line, nipped at his jugular (which drew low moans from his throat) and latched on to the place where his shoulder and neck met. Her nearly vampiric kiss made him remember what had drawn him to her, all those years past.

He could wait no longer, his body was screaming to behold her in all her glory. His fingers could touch no more fabric. He needed to feel the heat that emitted from her skin; he needed to strip her off all that separated her from her Eve and uncover what had been hidden from his eyes for nearly a decade.

Hands on her shoulder and lower back, he pressed her further to his chest and pulled away from the door. His hand slid from her shoulder to grip her elbow as he gently fell to a kneel. She followed without objection, until she rested on his body, still enjoying his time-worn flesh. Her digits wandered to buttons and let them come apart, as if magically, without opening her eyes. Soon she sat, hands groping at the curly tendrils of hair that decorated his chest, on his lap with her legs curled about his own bent legs.

They spent the next hours reintroducing their bodies to one another. There was little that each could not remember about the other, for their forms were nearly unchanged. No feeling of guilt had cropped up in either's stomach. The only feeling to be had was that of elation.

Remus got up from the bed where they had lain for hours, once the floor had gotten too rough. He moved slowly, drunken with the endorphins that swan his veins like long rivers, to the window. He fingered the lock and let it loose, thrusting the window open to enjoy the chill in th air. The windows had fogged with all the mingled heat in the room, from bodies and pleasure and the old, cast-iron stove in the corner. The cool air wafted over the room and immediately brought the temperature down several degrees.

"There's snow on the rooftops, 'Mione." He cooed. "We've lain here a long, long while."

The drop in temperature forced Hermione to pull the white linen sheet over her naked frame, to spare her breasts and belly the cool that was so foreign to them. Remus came and crawled up next to her, his bare body instantaneously warming her skin. Amazingly, he was always warm. His skin never seemed to temper the way her's did. She lent this to the werewolf hibernating within his body, whom she'd seen a hint of in their love-making.

As their warmed bodies mingled once more, she felt a strange sense of loss. She knew her marriage to Ron would never be quite the same, should it survive. She also felt a sense of gain, in Remus. Not sexual gain, but the kind of gain her spirit had pined for for years. The kind of reawakening that you find in a person who has so much to offer, spiritually.

"Tell me, Remus." She said, stroking the brittle, now days old, stubble on his face.

"Tell you what, Hermione?" He looked up at her, eyes smiling. "How much I love you? You already know that, I've told you so many times today..."

"No," She looked away, boding moving to accommodate his welcomed weight atop her. "Tell me everything about you. Tell me our story."

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Oops. Sorry, I lied about starting the whole "a", "b" thing yet. I'm starting to have second thoughts about it all together, anyway...meh. I'm thinking that there may already be enough drama in this story...plus, either story line would still have drama. Why not keep it simple?

Please R&R...what do you think?

Meg


	28. Chapter 26

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's outta the bag. It's Remus.)

A/N: I usually write chapters to songs, and I feel that listening to the song helps to better feel the flow that the song has established, so...from now on, I will list the song below.

Song: "Breathe Me" by Sia, "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap, "Something in the Way" by Nirvana.

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And so it began. For months Hermione and Remus would meet each other in Diagon Alley for "lunch" and emerge several hours later from a room in the Inn, skin filmed over in sweat and oily fingerprints. She would send him owls from her desk at work and would read the ones he'd sent by wand light, in the bathroom at night. She dreaded the day Ron would find out, but as a sensible woman, she knew it was eminent. She merely hoped, day to day, that the axe wouldn't fall that day. But, day to day, she got butterflies in her stomach as she awaited his owl. Some days, he'd ask her to meet him, others he'd be in some far off part of the country side on business. No matter what he was doing, Remus would take the time out to send her an owl. The feeling was beginning to fade, but each time she saw an owl soaring in the air out of her window, her heart would make a small leap.

Remus lay on the cool wood floor of his cottage, eyes to the air. His amber irises traced the grain of the dusty wood planks on the ceiling, pretending each one was a strand of Hermione's hair draped over the milky white of the skin on her back. Without thinking, he reached up to grab a handful of her soft hair, and found his fingers folding around empty space. Again. It had been going on for weeks now, his thoughtful pining for the smell of lavender she left on his clothes, the dwindling warmth from her skin and the loose strand of her hair he'd find clinging to his robes the next day.

"'Mione my dear," he murmured out, speaking to her, though they were many miles away from one another. "Where have you gone?"

He slid his hand up, and pressed down on the floor, rising to his knees. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and he could feel it in the way his bones creaked. As a werewolf, Remus had far outlived his expected life span and wasn't yet eager to retire from this world. He, on the other hand, would've given just about anything to settle down for a while with Mrs. Hermione Weasley.

He was tired of hearing about Ron's every whereabout when he would work up the nerve to telephone her. He was tired of having Ron answer and having to hear the update about Harry Potter and the whole of the ministry. He was tired of all the middle men. Remus frequently found himself wishing for just a moment of silence where he could forget that Hermione did _not_ belong to him.

"We spend every spare moment together, Hermione. _Spare_." He remembered telling her one bitter day after another memorable tryst. "I am tired of getting the odds and ends. I don't like getting the left over time with you...or the left over emotions."

Remus could still remember the way his words had hurt her, but also the way she stood fast over leaving Ron. Inside her heart Hermione loved Remus, but there was no denying that she loved Ron. He'd been with her in the good times, and so much good there had been, and in the bad times, which there was no fewer.

Remus stood, head hung in the kitchen sink. In one hand he had a large decanter of scotch and a battered glass in the other. He rinsed the stale alcohol from the crystalline glass and found himself with his head under the freezing running water. The flow of the water seemed to wrap around his head and run off from his lips. Lips that had not been kissed in so long. His eyes were crying great drops of icy spring water. Eyes that had not seen Hermione in a month's time. Remus fought the urge to dunk his head under the water for a moment. He wanted to feel detached from the world, like at the bottom of a clear stream.

"This is ridiculous!" He said, coming up for a deep breath of air. The water that clung to his hair flung across his back and sprayed the small kitchen down. "Jamis! Jamis, where are you?"

Within just a few seconds, a large bird flew into his open window and set himself down on the large butcher block. There was no mistaking that the bird belonged to Remus Lupin. He had equally greying brown feathers and looked like he'd suffered a few good battles in his time. Softly hooting, Jamis cocked his head and awaited a message from Remus.

Scribbling hard onto the piece of parchment, he wrote her a short note. It read:

"Hermione,

I haven't seen you in too long. I'm coming to you. Don't tell me not to.

Lupin."

His temper was rising, but he calmed himself to tie the note to his faithful bird. He'd woke up each morning that week, head filled with thoughts of Hermione. He'd woke up each morning with a sinking feeling of loneliness that only grew as the day weathered on. He never imagined that he could feel like such a stranger to a woman he'd known for so long. To a woman he found himself caring so much for. He hadn't felt love since the moment he got on the train, leaving Hermione in her time of greatest need, in Hogsmede a decade before. It had been the only way to survive. He'd needed to shut out the pain and shut out the love her felt for her and their unborn children to keep himself from devolving into the animal he kept inside. He needed to be aloof. Now it was Hermione who was aloof and verging on the lines of being cold.

"You think you can switch me off with a snap of your fingers..." He seethed as he pulled on his tattered old cloak. "I won't be made to feel like a...a...light switch!"

With a wave of his hand he sent out Jamis to deliver the letter to Hermione. He snapped his fingers and the candles in his house went out. He flung open the door, broom tucked under his arm. A moment later, he opened the door and came back in. He crossed the room, dissatisfied by the time it would take for him to get to London. He needed more immediate satisfaction. Floo powder, he decided. With a deep swipe of his hand, he gathered a large handful of the sparkling greenish powder and threw it onto his dying fire. The flames leapt up and sizzled.

"London!" He roared.

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Please R&R

Anyone catch the Dune reference? Lol.

Meagan


	29. Chapter 27

1"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's out of the bag. It's Remus.)

A/N: I usually write chapters to songs, and I feel that listening to the song helps to better feel the flow that the song has established, so...from now on, I will list the song below.

Song: "The Hand that Feeds", "Ring finger", "Zero-sum", "The Fragile" and "Deep" by Nine Inch Nails. Yes, I'm on a NIN kick...I don't know why.

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As the fireplaces of greater London flashed before Remus's eyes, each one giving a strobe light-like snippet of the lives going on in that particular house, Remus's thoughts were focused solely on Hermione. The cooled flames licked up on his body like the flaming desire her felt for Hermione, body and soul. With each passing second, he grew more and more annoyed with her. Her job was taxing, yes. She worked long hours, yes. She had a husband, yes. In the past, however, she'd traded time with those things for him. He thought she'd rather spend her time with him. He thought, but didn't know. Not knowing was killing him.

Remus closed his eyes, brows pulled down in a scowl. He was trying desperately to control his temper, to control the beastly feeling of rage that seemed to grow with each breath he took. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He told himself to breathe, to let out the anger each time he let out his breath, Instead, the anger just seemed to settle in his stomach, cramping his muscles into a tight ball. He could feel it coming on. He could feel the human "fight or flight" mechanism kicking in and settling on "fight". He knew himself very well, and the werewolf he was barely concealing had already begun to capitalize on his blossoming anger.

The tiny reasoning voice in his mind had grown quiet. Moments before, the voice had whispered that Hermione did what she could. She always does her best. The animalistic growls were drowning out reason. Drowning out what little man was left in Remus. Suddenly, Hermione's best was not enough. Remus wanted more. He was more than discontented with not being at the head of Hermione's thoughts, wants and needs.

When he reopened his eyes, the sight that he was greeted with infuriated him. He could almost feel the werewolf peeking out, despite the full moon being a week away. A snarl rose up on his lips, and his fingers wrapped tight into a fist. His wand would not do, now. He needed the satisfaction on causing pain with his bare hands.

Ron was laid out on the carpet, still mostly clothed. Obviously, Hermione had been desperate to get to him. His shirt had been tugged up and hastily thrown open, pants merely unzipped and pulled down just enough to give her access to him. Hermione rode him hard, body rising and falling, rocking and grinding to the pace of her hitched breathing and tiny pantings. Her nude body was flushed and sheened with sweat. She'd dug her fingers into the fabric of his undershirt with her head lolled back, moaning his name. With a slight growl, Ron lifted his hips, holding her's to his lap with his long fingers digging into her supple flesh. He thrust madly into her accepting body, and when he'd finally reached that point, dropped back onto the floor, eyes held close.

"Mmmmm...Ronald..." She cooed, tracing a circle onto his chest. She stood, dripping with his fluids, and walked through the open doorway into the next room. Ron had still not opened his eyes, moving only to zip his open slacks and button them.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione...what got into you?" He asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

"You, obviously." She giggled from the other room, and stepped through the door again. Her naked form revealed she had two glasses of wine and red hand prints on her hips. She also had a shocked, horrified look on her face.

"What? What?" Ron asked quickly, looking at her with concern-laced eyes.

When Hermione's gaze didn't leave the fireplace, Ron looked over. His eyes met those of a shrouded Remus Lupin, face painted with the deepest of snarls. Remus took one step out of the fireplace, shaking down soot and ash. To Hermione, he almost looked like Lucifer emerging from the gates of Hell itself. Ron did a double take from Remus to Hermione, and stood. He backed in front of Hermione to cover her.

"Hermione, put some clothes on. Obviously something's wrong." He said, looking over his shoulder at his wife. "Hey, mate, long time no see..." He said to Remus, plastering his face with a smile.

It was obvious to Remus that Ron had no idea as to what was going on or why Remus Lupin would show up in his living room unannounced. His cheeks were flushed a deep pink, knowing Remus had surely seen more than just a naked Hermione coming back from the kitchen. Remus's eyes followed Hermione and her panicked eyes as she ducked away to get clothing. There was very little, if any, love behind his amber irises at that moment. Remus wanted to cry. Why had he expected all love-making between Hermione and Ron to cease merely because he now had Hermione some of the time? Hermione was still married, and still not his. Not entirely, at least. Remus's anger boiled in his skull as he thought back, seeing the emblazoned love-making he had just witnessed. There had been so much passion, so much absolute need for each other's flesh. It sickened him.

"Yes. Long time." Remus exhaled after a long moment of silence and uncomfortableness on Ron's part. "Having fun, were you?" He said, eyes darting from the hallway where Hermione had disappeared to Ron's eyes suddenly. The eye contact made Ron jump slightly.

"A little." Ron said, blushing. He covered his cheeks with his hand and looked to the floor. "How much did you see, Lupin?"

"Enough." Remus spoke that harsh word directly to Hermione's face as she reentered the room, wearing a long t-shirt and old, faded muggle jeans. She swallowed hard, and tried to signal him to calm down, eyes desperate.

"What brings you, Remus?" She said, stepping forward and hugging him rather lightly. Instead of letting her go when she attempted to break the hug, he pulled her close. Wrapping his hands quickly around her narrow waist, he forced her to his body. He buried his nose into her hair, at the crook of her neck and let his hand slide to cup her under the curve of her rear. His eyes never broke contact with Ron, but the look in them had gone from angered to menacing.

"Remus!" She tried to yelp, but his firm grasp was forcing the air out of her lungs. She wrenched her hands up against his chest to push away, but found herself crushed more tightly to him.

"What are you doing to my wife?!" Ron ejaculated from across the small gap.

"Anything I like." Remus replied calmly.

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Don't hate me for making Remus's character a little more dark...I feel its necessary to achieve the ends I'm going for. (I'd be a Slytherin, after all. Hehe)

Please R& R,

Meagan


	30. Chapter 28

"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's out of the bag. It's Remus.)

A/N: I usually write chapters to songs, and I feel that listening to the song helps to better feel the flow that the song has established, so...from now on, I will list the song below.

Song: "Dancing" by Elsa, "Forever" by Papa Roach

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"Remus..." Hermione tried to say, but her strained voice came out whiny and small. She pushed against him once more, but felt the non-familiar crush of his hand against her back.

"Lupin," Ron seemed to warn, but his voice was not at all intimidating. "Let Hermione go and we can talk about this."

"Talk about what?" Remus growled. "You have no idea what's been going on! None."

Ron reached for his wand, but found it nowhere near him. Internally, he regretted Hermione's immediate lustful passion at the door. She thrown his coat somewhere, and his wand was where ever it was. He quickly scanned the room, eyes darting over the sofa, the hearth, the table and looking hopelessly into the opening to the kitchen. Remus was no longer clutching Hermione so closely to himself, but now just holding her. His long arms were wrapped about her seemingly tiny frame. Somehow, she had never seemed so small in all of Ron's life. Normally, she stood so proudly and independently. Now, she was weak and submissive, giving in to Remus and his aggression.

"Its not going to do you any good anyway, Weasley." Remus said, voice low and calm, but his eyes reflected a fierceness Ron would not be able to handle. Ron backed away, still trying to find his wand.

"What are you going to do, Remus?" Hermione finally managed to say. She'd stopped her futile struggle and just looked up at her lover, eyes laced with tears. "Please don't do anything rash."

Remus looked down at her, and she felt like she didn't even know who he was. The compassion in his eyes had iced over, and all that was there was a possessive rage. Remus felt the need to break contact with Hermione's pleading brown irises. Instead, his brows furrowed and he gave her the strongest look she had ever seen. Without saying anything, he'd said so much.

"Don't, Hermione." He mumbled, lips barely separating. The anger was gone from his words, and replaced with mingled sadness and overwhelming hurt "Do not antagonize me."

"Rash! Hermione! What do you call all of this!" Ron called from across the room. Ron's fingers finally found _a wand_, Hermione's wand, and he threw his arm into the air proudly. The flaming redhead made a small victorious noise and brandished the wand like a small sword.

"Ron, put that away." Remus said to Ron without looking up. Hermione could feel Remus's once-beautiful amber eyes eating holes in her. He blinked once, a slow sad blink, and broke contact with her. Only a second after pulling his gaze away from her, Remus caught Hermione completely off guard. Swiftly removing his hands from her back, Remus let her go. She dropped to the ground, falling back onto her hands, surprised.

"Screw you, mate, if you think I'm going to drop the only thing protecting me!" Ron growled back, freckled face lit up in confusion and fear. He pointed the wand at Remus's face, motioning for him to step away. "Get away from her! Away!"

Remus smiled internally, knowing that if Ron decided to make any sort of move, the wand in his pocket would be out before Ron could utter a syllable. He backed away, a small smirk painted on his face. Remus slid his hand in his pockets, took a few steps back, and rested his shoulders against the mantlepiece. Hermione, looking astonished at the sudden change of pace, got to her feet and walked over to Ron but did not take his outstretched hand.

"Are you alright, 'Mione?" Ron asked, looking over at him sidelong, trying to keep one eye on Remus.

"I'm fine, Ronald. Remus wouldn't hurt me." She said, words confident.

"Hermione! The man's a _werewolf_!" Ron replied, tone suddenly aghast at Hermione's comfort with the situation. "Don't forget that. I know he can be...normal...but, clearly, he's not...normal...right now!"

Remus watched the exchange between Hermione and Ron in silence. They behaved just the way they had in their first year of Hogwarts. Ron always assumed Hermione was missing the big picture, too caught up in the details. She made up for his spastic nature and reminded him, sometimes none too gently, that she was capable of handling herself. The system seemed to work for them.

"Hermione, does Ron make you happy?" Remus heard the words come out of his mouth, but almost didn't believe they had. He was thinking them one second, and the next...they were floating in the space between the three bodies in Hermione's den.

"Excuse me?" Ron barked.

"Does he make you happy, 'Mione?" Remus repeated, feeling as though he'd already said the words and that no more harm could come from repeating them. He stood a little taller, and looked her right in the eye. "Is this want you want, Hermione? To be a little housewife with an _okay_ husband who undermines you?"

Ron whipped around and stared at Hermione. His mouth was agape, wondering why she was not immediately interjecting. Hermione looked at Ron blankly and then turned to glare at Remus, eyes filled with mild hatred.

"Yes, Remus. He makes me happy." She said after a moment, words slow like honey.

"Do _I_ make you happy?" He answered, nearly before she'd finished her sentence."Answer honestly, Hermione." Remus added when a hesitation hung in the air.

"No, Remus, I won't answer that!" She shouted, caution thrown out.

"Why not, Hermione?" Remus heard Ron say, voice confused. Hearing that had obviously surprised Hermione as well, she seemed to have expected Remus to speak next. "Hermione, tell him! How can he make you happy? He doesn't have anything to do with you!"

Ron stepped out from behind Hermione, and turned to face her. He let the wand drop to the floor and grabbed both of her arms with his inflexible grip. He fought off the urge to shake her. Hermione's gaze was set firmly on Remus, and Ron had to shake her lightly to get to look him in the eye. "Hermione. Hermione!" He repeated.

"Ron...you have to understand..." She looked at him sheepishly.

"No." He interrupted her. "Hermione...you've got to be joking me."

"Ron, it was just once!" She yelped, looking to Remus for help.

Instead of helping Hermione's case like she'd hoped he would, his anger boiled up. He was insulted that Hermione would cast off the love they shared. He wanted to scream at her. She was calling what had happened an innocent accident. Not the earth-moving love affair that it had been since the beginning.

"Don't lie to him, Hermione!" He growled. "If you love him, he deserves the truth!"

Hermione could feel the sting of Remus's own words. She knew that he wanted her for himself. She looked at him, wondering just how far this was going to go. A deep knot rose up in her stomach and Hermione fought to keep it down. She looked at Ron, whose face was already reflecting pain, and tears welled up in her eyes. She didn't want to hurt him. He loved her so much, but she knew that he deserved someone who would be faithful. Hermione hated that she hadn't been loyal to Ron. But, there was something about Remus...

"Hermione..." Ron pleaded, holding her arms tighter than he had.

"I've been having an affair with Remus for a very long time, Ron." Hermione held her eyes closed. She couldn't look at Ron once she said those words.

"How long?" He yelped. Hermione opened her eyes. "How long, Hermione? Tell me, God damnit."

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Please R&R.

The story is coming to an end...only two more chapters left.

Meagan


	31. Chapter 29

"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's out of the bag. It's Remus.)

A/N: I usually write chapters to songs, and I feel that listening to the song helps to better feel the flow that the song has established, so...from now on, I will list the song below.

Song: "All around me" by Flyleaf, "This Animal I have become" by Three Days Grace, "One thing" by Finger 11

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Hermione swallowed hard and looked away from Ron's pleading eyes. She could feel convulsions start in the muscles of her abdomen; the deep sobbing had already begun to happen even though she tried her hardest to remain calm. Her lower lip quivered and she bit it in a futile attempt to stop the tears from coming. 

Ron tried again and again to form words. He'd utter part of a syllable before shaking his head and looking over at Remus. The blood had gone from his face, and his lips were the same greyish-white color as the skin of a corpse. In sharp contrast, Hermione's lips and eyes were deep cranberry red. Her hands covered her face as best she could, digging into her hair as low cries, almost moans of pain, emitted from between her fingers. The only thought in Remus's mind was "What have I done?"

Ron found himself unable to stand any longer. He slumped back onto the couch, body looking so frail that Remus was convinced if he touched Ron, he would feel the crackling of his bones. Ron hung his head, and his ear-length strands of hair obscured his face from view. Damp spots began to appear on the lap of Ron's trousers from the slowly dripping tears he cried. All of Ron's fears seemed to be confirmed, and he let out a long, semi-strangled breath.

"How long, Remus?" Ron choked out, voice nearly gone and looking thirteen again.

"No, Remus! Don't!" Hermione suddenly whipped her hands away, spraying sparkling tears about. Her face was panic-stricken, pupils like pin pricks in the whites of her eyes

"You never loved me at all," Ron said, words just above a whisper. "Did you, Hermione? Was this all just a game?"

"Ron!" She cried out, falling to her knees in front of him. "Don't ever think that. Please..."

"No, Hermione. If you loved me...if you...how could you do this to me?" He said, anger peeking out from behind his pain. His whole body conveyed his confusion. His brows we pulled down, chest muscles pulled tight and arms rigid.

"Ron. Forgive me. Ron, please!" She whimpered, picking up his large hands into her own tiny hands.

Without speaking, Ron pulled his hands out from within Hermione's. Her small fingers curled around Ron's as hard as they could, and he had to tug decently hard to wrench free. Once his fingers left hers, she grasped onto his thighs, begging for forgiveness. Ron exhaled sharply, lip drawn up into a snarl. Shoving hard, Ron flung Hermione's hands from his knees.

"No, Hermione." He growled. "Not this time!"

"Ronald!" She whimpered as he pushed her away and stood, drawing himself up to full height.

Ron stood face to face with Remus. Hermione clung, sobbing, to the fabric at his knee. Remus felt suddenly small when Ron was so close. Ron towered over Remus when so close. He was a solid six inches taller now, not like in the old days. Once, when Remus was a professor at Hogwarts, Ron was a child. He and Hermione had been thirteen, two young children with their whole lives in front of them. Both had been so innocent.

Remus reflected back on those young children. Then, they'd probably not even shared a kiss with a member of the opposite sex. Now, Hermione had shared some of the raciest sex Remus had ever had the pleasure of being part of with him. Remus's image of Hermione would forever be skewed for having known her as a child.

"If you won't tell me, Hermione, I know Remus will. He's enjoying this." Ron said, voice low and monotone. Remus opened his mouth to contradict Ron, he was not enjoying it at all, but was cut off.

"Ten years!" Hermione cried out from Ron's knee. "Ten years, Ron. Since Hogwarts."

"Since _Hogwarts_?" Ron shouted, his anger level suddenly jumping up tremendously. He reached down and grasped Hermione by her wrist. He pulled hard on her frail arm, dragging her entire body up, nearly pulling her shoulder out of its socket.

"Ron...I know you're upset, but...don't hurt her." Remus said, nearly touching Ron's flexed arm that held onto Hermione's hand.

"Tell me the truth about the babies, Hermione." Ron seethed through his teeth. It was clear now that he'd pieced together the puzzle. Whether he'd done it years before, or only just that moment, no one knew.

When Hermione couldn't speak through her tears, Remus spoke very plainly. "They were mine."

"Yours?" Ron repeated, as if the words were unable to sink in.

"Yes." Remus replied quietly.

"I'm sorry, Ron!" Hermione sputtered from next to Ron, her arm still held up in the air, still held in Ron's tight grasp. "I didn't know! I thought you were the father just like you did!"

Before Remus had any idea what was going on, he felt his palm make stinging contact with Hermione's cheek. The loud noise of his slap seemed to echo in the tiny room. The hurt in Remus's heart was so immense, it seemed to fill the hollow spaces in his ribs. How could sh lie like that? Remus finally knew that Hermione would do anything, _anything,_ to keep herself from being hurt. She'd even lie about something so precious. While Ron and Hermione did not seem surprised by what had occurred, Remus was shocked by his own instinct. He'd just warned Ron to not hurt his wife. Ron, looking stern, place a hand on Remus's shoulder and pushed him, gently, to an arm's distance from he and his wife.

"I know you're lying, Hermione." Ron said slowly. " Harry told me he knew that...I wasn't the father. Harry honestly thought he was the father, himself, from the beginning."

Hermione's eyes were wide, and her sobbing seemed to quiet. "When did he tell you?"

"The day before we got married. The first time." Ron answered curtly.

"Why did you marry me, then, Ron?" Hermione asked, hands raking back her hair.

"Because I loved you, Hermione." He looked her in the eye. "You were the only girl I'd ever loved. From day one...you were special to me...What I'll never understand...why have I never been special to you?"

"Ron..." She murmured.

"No, let me finish!" He interjected. "I've been good to you! I've never lain a hand on a single other woman, never even thought about it. I married you and accepted that those weren't my babies. But, I loved you. I knew you needed me... and having you made me happy. I even looked the other way when you cheated on me with Draco."

It was Remus's turn to be wide-eyed.

"And Harry."

Hermione made a small choked noise.

"And Viktor."

"You knew?" She coughed out. "Why are you still with me, then, Ron? If you knew...why stay?"

"Because I loved you, Hermione!" He yelled, hand to his chest. "I know you don't understand love...you've never loved anyone the way I've loved you!...But, I'm done."

"Done?" She cried.

"I'm done, Hermione." He said, turning to Remus. "You can have her, mate."

Ron pushed her hands off of his arm, after she'd clung to him desperately. He looked at Remus, face devoid of any emotion but streaked with now drying tears. When Remus met his eyes, Ron shook his head and looked down. With a flick of his hand, Ron brushed his hair out of his eyes and then rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand. He turned, stepping over the pillows strewn about and walked out of the room.

After a moment, Hermione and Remus heard the front door close. And for a moment, there was silence.

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Please R&R. 

One chapter left.

Meagan


	32. Chapter 30

"Behind Closed Doors" By Meg

I don't own Harry Potter…I simply enjoy using the characters conjured up J.K. Rowling for my own sweet pleasure.

Pairing: Hermione/Ron and Hermione/Mystery man (okay, the cat's out of the bag. It's Remus.)

A/N: I usually write chapters to songs, and I feel that listening to the song helps to better feel the flow that the song has established, so...from now on, I will list the song below.

Song:"Creep" by Radiohead, "Dancing" by Elisa, "Fake Plastic Trees" by Radiohead "Brighter Discontent" by The Submarines.

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The silence lasted only a moment. It lasted only long enough for Remus to close his eyes and reopen them. One breath, that was all Remus could manage. The noise in his mind was deafening. Hermione had cheated on Ron _so_ many times. Why should he suppose this was any different? She seemed to be eternally bored with her life. She needed outside entertainment. Apparently, the best entertainment comes in the form of disposable men. Draco? Harry? Viktor?

"Why am I any different?" He asked aloud, back to his lover.

"Remus..." Hermione whispered. She took a deep breath and took an idle brush at her eyes. Her crying had stopped immediately when the front door had slammed shut. "What did you say, Remus?"

"Never mind, Hermione..." Remus shook his head. He'd made up his mind.

"What did you say, Remus?" She asked, wiping the remainder of her tears from her eyes. She seemed to be able to turn off all emotion at will. Was she truly upset about Ron leaving? Was it what she'd wanted all along?

He acted quickly. Without warning, Remus grabbed Hermione's shoulder and turned her to him. Sliding his hand down the slender length of her arm, he pulled her to him until their lips were close enough to brush.

His eyes burned when their lips touched. The moisture of her lips clung to his and their pink lips refused to part. He nestled his hand at the base of her skull, fingers intertwined into the curly mass of her hair. With a single breath, she pulled back, mouth coming free from his hungry lips. She moaned as he kissed her chin, the underside of her jaw and the smooth line of her neck. Nibbling, he set his teeth into the crook of her and took a slow, hard bite.

"Remus!" Hermione stifled a yelp as a tingly half-pain, half-pleasure seared up the nerves of her neck.

Remus trailed his fingers down her neck and chest, brushing on the tender skin of her collarbone and grazing the taught fabric separating his fingers from her supple breasts. His thumbs found the edge of her shirt as he palmed her hipbones, mouth lavishing rough kisses on the skin of Hermione's shoulder. Her skin was hot beneath his lips, nearly feverish. Remus wanted to remember this time with Hermione forever, because he knew this time would be the last.

Remus wanted to remember the way Hermione smelled, spicy yet honey sweet. He wanted to memorize the feeling of her curly hairs as they passed through the spaces between his fingers. The look of her dewy eyelashes and flushed cheeks. The sweet rosy pink of her soft lips and pert nipples. He wanted to remember the way she breathed and those moments when she held her breath.

He hooked his thumbs under the thin layer of fabric and began working it up her body. His mouth broke contact from the heat of her skin only long enough to drag the blouse over her body and head. Suckling again, he held her to him, body flush with his own. He wondered if she knew that this was the last time he'd touch her like this. Her fingers drew small circles on the fabric of his shirt, much the same way she had done to Ron's chest earlier. Her touch on his back nearly brought tears to his eyes. Remus loved Hermione, much more than he should. He loved her despite all that she had done, the things he knew of and the things he did not. He loved her for her flaws, not despite them. But, Remus also wanted to be loved in return. He knew Hermione was incapable of returning the feelings he had for her.

"I know better." He whispered to himself, voice barely above a whisper. "But I need this. I need one more moment with her."

Hermione, reaching down, cradled his head in her small hands. Their eyes met and he knew he had made the right decision. Her eyes held no love for him; they reflected only lust and possession. He forced himself to look away. It hurt him to look at her and finally see what he'd missed all these years. His denial had been all-consuming, had intoxicated him into a sense of false happiness. But, the spell had broken. Hermione's spell over Remus had finally worn off and he could see clearly now what was once clouded by desire. He'd built Hermione up into a goddess over the years of separation.

Hermione kissed Remus's lips softly, fingers roughing his beard. Her fingers trailed down his torso and she rest her palm on his chest for a moment. His heart was calm as she unfastened the buttons of his shirt, as she tugged open the worn blue dress shirt. Not making a move, he let her pull the shirt from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor of her den. Remus wondered, sourly, in the back of his mind if killing Hermione would hurt less than leaving. He could barely think the idea, and knew in no way would he be able to harm her, now or ever. He was used to the pain of not having Hermione. This pain would probably burn forever, but Remus carried many burdens. This would only be another weight to bear.

With deft fingers, Remus undid the clasp of her bra. He held one soft breast in his hand as he kissed her again, this time with renewed passion. His tongue sought to memorize her taste as he delved into her open mouth. Hermione's back arched, bringing her breasts to Remus's chest. He could feel the soft brush of her hard nipples against his body and found himself more anxious to be inside Hermione one last time. He could admit, even without love, he and Hermione had indisputable chemistry. This would surely be the bane of his existence for the remainder of his days. Strong hands grabbing her just under her rear, Remus lifted Hermione and cradled her in his arms.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, voice husky from lust.

Remus didn't answer her. If he opened his mouth to speak, Remus was afraid that all the things he wanted to say would come pouring our. He couldn't let his emotions take hold of him like that ever again. He wouldn't have it. He carried her, not feeling her weight, up the stairs to her bed. He knew it was the marriage bed that Ron and Hermione had shared for seven years. He knew that Ron certainly wasn't the only man that Hermione had brought into that bed.

Once up the stairs, Remus held tightly onto Hermione as he crossed the threshold of their door. In the back of his mind, Remus mourned for the marriage he and Hermione could have had. Mourned for the bride he would never carry past the threshold into his room. He set her down onto the broad bed, not even bothering to pull back the crisp white covers. He didn't wish to stay with her and cuddle beneath the warmth of those covers. This wasn't about love for Hermione anymore. This was about remembering Hermione, one last time.

Hair fanned out against the bed, Hermione looked up at him. Bare from the waist up, she looked like Eve. Blushing cheeks and pale lips against milky skin, perhaps she was more of an angel. Remus reached down to the waistband of her muggle jeans and slowly unfastened the button and unzipped the fly. As he tugged her pants and knickers down from her curvaceous hips and slender legs, he kissed a gentle trail down her smooth skin. If Hermione hadn't been so caught up in the sensation, she would have felt the occasional pattering of a tear here and there.

"I want you, Remus." She cooed to him, fingers tracing idle paths along her flesh. "I always have."

Completely naked to him, he felt drawn to her. He closed his eyes and remembered, for a moment, the first time he had made love to Hermione. He had been sweet and gentle with her, as she had been a sweet and gentle girl. She was no longer that girl, and hadn't been her for years. She was a woman now, and a woman who felt no qualms in taking what she wanted. Remus wished he could take what he wanted from her, but he couldn't. He couldn't be like her. Instead, he chose to make her happy one last time. He would take memories of her with him when he left in the morning. He wanted to leave a few memories for Hermione to keep.

Remus leaned down and kissed Hermione's silken stomach, one that once held two tiny lives that he'd helped to create. He kissed a path to the moist curls between her thighs and left one kiss on her there, one that sent chills up her spine. He was glad she didn't moan his name, it would have broken him. With swift fingers, he undid the clasp of his pants and tugged them down over his slender hips. Naked as Adam, he knelt at her feet, eyes wandering over her body for perhaps the last time. She was beautiful on the outside, but Hermione was nearly ugly on the inside.

Hermione's body accepted him willingly, warm and slick around him. He would remember the pleasure she gave to him so readily, but he would try to forget the consequences his love for her had. Remus wanted to remember the good times he'd had with Hermione. The strong emotion that had coursed through his body, the one he dared call "love". He wanted to remember Hermione as the innocent, tender girl he'd met at Hogwarts.

When dawn broke, and lemon rays of light pierced the dark of the bedroom, Remus crawled out from the bed he swore he'd not sleep in. Remus pulled on his rumpled clothes and went downstairs. He stared into the green flames of the floo powder he'd thrown into the fireplace. Remus thought back on the last night. The screaming and the tears, Ron's searing pain, and the passion he'd felt while making love to Hermione. He'd lain in Hermione's arms all night, thinking back on his life and the role she had played in it for so long.

He'd lived his life in secret since the moment he'd found himself looking at Hermione as more than a seventeen year old former student. Since the moment he'd caressed her skin, Remus's life changed. He'd kept secrets from the world before. With each new secret that Remus took on, less and less of him existed anymore. Remus wanted to emerge from the world of secrets. He wanted to live his life out in the open. No longer could he live his life behind closed doors.

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Please R&R.

I hope you like how it turned out..I'm satisfied with the story as a whole. I had intentions to kill Hermione, but I don't think Remus could have been the one to do it. His love was genuine from the start.

I'm sorry for the readers who thought I should continue this story longer, but it was time to retire it. The storyline was nearing soap-opera drama and I wanted to keep it dignified...I will, however, write about this pairing in the future.

If you like this story (and similar pairings) please read my Ginny/Sirius fic, "God of My Idolatry".

Meagan


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